


Down on the Corner

by flowerfan



Series: Season 6 Reaction Fics [3]
Category: Glee
Genre: AU, Brief discussion of suicide, Communication, Depression, Happy Ending, Healing, Klaine, M/M, Slowly coming together, alternate season 6, becomes a future fic, blam friendship, it began as a reaction fic but took on a life of its own
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-01-16
Updated: 2015-04-10
Packaged: 2018-03-07 20:03:12
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 21
Words: 60,006
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/3181370
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/flowerfan/pseuds/flowerfan
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>AU after Season 5/ Alt!s6. Blaine went back to Lima after the breakup, but Kurt stayed in New York.  They do in fact reunite on the corner outside the loft in six months, but it doesn't go as either of them expected.  Over the course of the next year, Blaine struggles to find himself, and Kurt struggles to find Blaine.  And while they both realize that love doesn’t necessarily conquer all, they discover that it definitely helps.</p><p>Tw:  depression.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> In canon Kurt remarks that no one came to their scheduled 6 month reunion on the corner outside the loft - and for that story, I think it is important that a good amount of time went by between the break-up and when Kurt and Blaine see each other again in 6x01. I started thinking about what would have happened if they met up earlier, when they wouldn't necessarily have been ready for it. This isn't really a reaction fic anymore, but an AU which looks at how the year after the meeting on the corner could have gone, and Kurt and Blaine's journey to heal themselves and come together again.

Kurt came up out of the subway and headed down the street, the wind tugging at his umbrella. He pushed down the nervous butterflies in his stomach and turned the corner, relieved to see a small group of people gathered near the end of the block. There was Artie, Rachel, Sam, and… yes, that had to be Blaine. His back was to Kurt but it was definitely him, sharing an umbrella with Tina. Kurt took a deep breath, patted his hair to make sure the wind and rain hadn’t done too much damage, and joined them.

“Hey, guys.”

“Kurt!” Rachel grabbed him into a one-armed hug, their umbrellas tangling into each other and rain pouring down on them both. 

As everyone began to exchange hellos, Artie spoke up. “Not that it isn’t great to see you, man, but can we go up to the loft now? This rain is murder on my ride.”

Kurt felt everyone’s eyes on him as he shook his head. “Um, I don’t live there anymore.” And there was no way he was taking this group into the tiny apartment he had moved into when he gave up the loft.

“You serious? What happened to the Kurt and Blaine bachelor pad of coolness?” Artie continued.

“How is it possible he doesn’t know?” Kurt heard Tina whisper in a not very quiet voice. “Hasn’t he been in New York with Kurt all this time?”

A few awkward minutes later, they had filed into the nearest Starbucks. As they shook off their umbrellas and peeled off their raincoats, Kurt tried to sneak a look at Blaine. He was dressed neatly, as always, with a warm navy sweater over a plaid button down, and a striped bow-tie completing the look. But something seemed off, and Kurt couldn’t get him to meet his eyes.

The dull Starbucks wasn’t the location Kurt had imagined for his first meeting with Blaine since the break-up, but try as he might, he hadn’t been able to psych himself up to contact Blaine before today. He needed to talk to him, to try to make things right between them. To start to earn his forgiveness. Because he had come to realize that life without Blaine was not the life he wanted.

Kurt tried to move closer to Blaine, aching to reach out and touch him, just for a minute, but as they settled themselves tightly around a small table he found himself between Rachel and Artie, with Blaine across from him, flanked by Sam and Tina. 

“Isn’t it wonderful to be all together again?” Rachel chirped. “I know I’ve been out of touch – I had to go into seclusion to get myself grounded after my show failed.” Rachel shook her head at everyone’s attempts to contradict her. “No, I know it was terrible, it truly was. I’ve been doing a lot of thinking, though, and there’s nowhere to go but up from here….” She smoothed her hands on her lap. “Anyway, I’m back now. Tell me everything that’s happened.” Rachel gave Kurt a squeeze on the arm and smiled. “You go first.”

Kurt was grateful that he had been able to touch base with Rachel last week, when she finally came out of hiding and they agreed that they would both be here today. At least she already knew about him and Blaine.

He wasn’t sure how to answer her question, however, without veering into sensitive territory. “Well, I’m about to start my third year at NYADA…” He glanced at Blaine to see how he’d react to this, but his face was still, eyes focused on the paper cup of coffee in his hands. “I’m set to work with my favorite old folks again, and I think it’s going to be great.” He turned to Artie. “How about you?”

“Oh, same old, same old,” Artie replied. He was looking back and forth between Kurt and Blaine, clearly dying to know more. Artie opened his mouth to ask the obvious question, then closed it again, Tina having apparently flicked him under the table.

“Things are awesome at Brown,” Tina spoke up, giving Artie a glare. “I’ve decided to major in English and Women’s Studies, with a focus on pre-law, or maybe advocacy. And I got into the best all-women’s a capella group on campus!”

“That’s fantastic, Tina,” Rachel said, smiling broadly. “I always knew you’d be a star.”

“No you didn’t,” Tina disagreed. “But that’s okay, I’m doing great anyway.”

“What about you, Blaine?” Kurt spoke softly, figuring it was now or never. “What are you up to these days?”

Blaine raised his head, his gaze not quite focusing on Kurt before looking off out the window behind him. “Not much.”

“Huh, that’s not true,” Sam said, jostling Blaine with his shoulder. “Blaine’s going to be coaching the Warblers.”

“Really?” Rachel reached out to touch Blaine, but he drew his hands away and clenched them in his lap. “That’s wonderful.”

“It’s not for sure yet,” Blaine said quietly. “I’m not even a real teacher….”

“No, but it’s in the bag,” Sam assured him. “You should have seen this guy at his audition – uh, interview, whatever – people were practically falling all over themselves to talk to him. The Dean invited him out to lunch. They’re desperate to get him back. Blaine’s a legend at Dalton.”

“I am not,” Blaine said, a faint blush rising on his cheeks.

“You are man, accept it. It’s fact.” Sam put his arm around Blaine and Blaine smiled, leaning against him.

“Wait, how were you at his interview?” Kurt was still trying to figure this out. He knew Blaine had dropped out of NYADA, but he hadn’t realized he had gone home to Ohio.

“Blaine put together an awesome mashup of Ed Sheeran songs. You have to be able to arrange stuff for the Warblers to be their coach, you know.” Sam gave Blaine a squeeze, the pride in his eyes shining brightly. “I always knew Blaine was a musical genius, but making up all those parts and having them sound right? It’s really hard. We wanted them to see how good he was, you know? So we all went along to sing the different parts, show off his skills.”

“You all went?” _That weasel Sebastian,_ Kurt thought.

“Wes and Trent came home to help me out,” Blaine said. “Sam got in touch with them, he organized the whole thing. I couldn’t have done it without him.”

“Sure you could have, Blainey-days,” Tina cooed. “You’re the best, and we all know it.” She put a hand on Blaine’s shoulder but Kurt could see the tiny flinch Blaine tried to suppress. Sam apparently felt it too, and pulled him tighter against his side. Something odd was going on, but Kurt couldn’t put his finger on it.

Artie apparently decided that if he couldn’t find out more about what happened between Kurt and Blaine, he’d pry into Rachel’s woes. But she went along placidly, apparently having prepared a detailed statement about her “journey into darkness.” “That’s what I’m calling it for now,” she explained. “Pending a discussion with my publicist. Who I’ve been trying to reach for days. For some reason, she won’t call me back.”

Kurt tuned out Rachel’s rant and looked over at Blaine, who was still tucked up against Sam, gaze planted firmly on his coffee cup again. Every once in a while Sam would whisper something in Blaine’s ear, and Blaine would nod. It was strange.

“What about you, Sam? What are you up to?” Rachel had apparently tired of trying to explain her life to Artie.

“Assistant coach for the football team at McKinley,” Sam replied. “And we’ve got a great team this year. Sue did some recruiting, and I think it’s really going to pay off.”

“That’s ‘cause you’ve been working so hard with them,” Blaine said. “Sam’s awesome at motivating people. He gets them moving, even when they don’t feel like they can do it.”

Kurt wasn’t sure if they were talking about football anymore. “Have you been helping Sam with the team?” he asked Blaine. “You always did like football.”

Blaine shook his head, but Sam gave him a look. “Blaine’s totally helping me. Not officially, or anything, but he’s given me really good ideas about how to coach the new kids, and get everyone to work together.”

“Do you get to wear tight pants, and run laps around the track?” Tina asked, eyes wide. Kurt thought she was probably joking, but couldn’t be sure.

“No, no laps for me,” Blaine smiled wryly. “Purely advisory work.”

“But we’re working out together every other day, and Blaine’s boxing again.” Sam punched him gently in the arm. “Gotta stay active.”

“Oh, that’s good – did you read that book I sent you?” Tina asked. “It says exercise is a critical component of your recovery.” 

Kurt startled, wondering what they were talking about. “Recovery? From what?”

There was a moment of silence, and then Sam shifted in his seat, leaning almost protectively around Blaine. "Dude, you don’t have to-“

“Depression. I have depression,” Blaine said nervously. He took a deep breath in, then looked up and met Kurt’s eyes. “It’s probably not new. But I’m seeing a therapist, and things are getting better.”

“Oh,” Kurt said pointlessly, as his heart clenched in his chest. Rachel took pity on him and steered the conversation to a harmless debate about a movie she had seen, but Kurt wasn’t listening. Depression. _It’s probably not new._ What part had he played in Blaine’s illness? How had he not seen that Blaine’s struggles were an indication that something was really wrong? And why hadn’t he been the one to help him get better, instead of Sam and Tina?

 _Because you ran away,_ he answered himself. _You pushed him away, and ruined the best thing that ever happened to you._

“I’m sorry,” Kurt blurted out. Everyone stopped talking to stare at him, but he kept his eyes on Blaine. “I know this is probably too little, too late, and this isn’t the best place,” he looked around at their startled friends, “but I’m so, so sorry.”

“For what?” Blaine’s voice was small, and he clutched his coffee cup so tightly Kurt worried he would crush it.

“For everything. What I said to you, how I said it. That I couldn’t be what you needed.”

Blaine’s eyes filled with tears, but he swiped a hand across his face and swallowed hard. “I appreciate that, but it’s not your fault.” He stood up and Sam immediately stood with him, grabbing for their umbrellas and coats. “We’ve got to go.”

“Blaine, wait,” Kurt stumbled out of his chair and followed them out the door. “Can we talk, please?”

Luckily the rain had stopped, but the wind was still whipping around them as Blaine pulled on his coat and turned towards Kurt, his face drawn. “Honestly, I don’t want to talk to you right now.”

Kurt’s chest tightened, but he pressed on. “Please, let me just explain. I’ve been seeing a therapist, too. There are things I need to tell you.”

Blaine looked at him, resigned, and he nodded at Sam, who moved a few feet away on the sidewalk and pulled out his phone. “Kurt, I’m not saying this to be mean. But no matter what you’re going through, I’ve got to think about myself for now. Things have been really rough, and,” he shrugged, “I’m not sure seeing you is helping.”

 _Do not cry,_ he told himself sternly. “I understand.” He reached out to touch Blaine, but quickly retracted his hand. “But I want us to be friends again someday. When you’re ready.” Blaine didn’t respond, just stared off across the street. “Please.”

Blaine turned back to him, an odd expression on his face, and Kurt was reminded of what Blaine had said that night in the café. _I will never forgive you for this._ Had he really meant it? Did he still? But then something changed in Blaine’s face, and Kurt held his breath, waiting for him to speak.

“Can I say maybe?”

“Of course you can,” Kurt breathed out in relief. 

Sam rejoined them, giving Kurt a pointed look. “We’ve got a train to catch. Take care, Kurt.”

As they began to walk away, Sam slinging an arm over Blaine’s shoulders, Kurt looked around. Six months ago they had stood on this spot and promised that they’d all come back again, and they had. So much had changed, but if they hadn’t met today, what else would he have missed? “Wait!” he yelled, jogging towards Sam and Blaine when they turned. “Six more months. Promise me we’ll meet here again in six more months.”

Sam looked at Blaine, who nodded, a small smile tugging at his lips. “Sure,” Blaine said. “Tell the others. Six more months, right here.”

Kurt smiled too, a wave of hope rising within him. As bad as things were between them, Blaine had still shown up today. And he said he’d show up again. In his book, that was a lot better than a ‘maybe.’


	2. Chapter 2

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Tw: Depression.

Blaine's heart had been racing as he and Sam headed off to the train station after their awkward coffee date with Kurt, Rachel, Tina and Artie. He had been worried about seeing Kurt today for so long, it was a relief that it was finally over. He had made it through. He had sat there and answered his friends' questions like a normal human being, or at least a reasonable facsimile of one. And Kurt had smiled at him. Although after Blaine had been entirely unable to give a real smile back in return, Kurt's glances had gotten increasingly more concerned, especially after he blurted out that bit about being depressed. Still, the meeting had been entirely different than Blaine had imagined. The angry, exasperated Kurt that had lashed out at him that horrible night of their breakup was gone, replaced by someone new. 

And to make the afternoon even more unbelievable, Kurt had apologized. _“I’m so, so sorry,”_ Kurt had said. _“For everything. What I said to you, how I said it. That I couldn’t be what you needed.”_ Blaine really didn't know what to do with that. No idea at all.

He and Sam were settled in their seats on the train, Sam listening to music on his iPod while Blaine sat with his journal open in front of him. So far he had written "Met everyone on the corner by the loft. Kurt was there." But no other words would come.

Sam gave Blaine a questioning look, probably noticing how he couldn’t quite stop jiggling his leg up and down with barely repressed anxiety. Blaine pressed a hand against his thigh and shrugged helplessly at Sam. “Sorry.”

"Having a hard time?" Sam asked, looking at the mostly blank page as he took his earphones out. Sam was quite familiar with Blaine’s journal. When Blaine had showed up back in Lima, he hadn't been much of a conversationalist. His therapist had suggested he keep a journal, to keep track of his feelings even if he didn't feel up to talking with anyone, and Blaine had taken to it like a kid with his first cell phone. There was something truly cathartic about finally having a safe place to record everything that constantly spun around in his head. 

Sam had been stopping by his house regularly despite Blaine’s halfhearted protests, and Blaine soon realized that having him around was comforting, even if Sam just played video games while Blaine dozed on the couch. But Blaine still hadn't been able to articulate much about what was going on in his mind to Sam, even though he was starting to really wish he could. So one day he pulled out the journal, and handed it to Sam. Blaine sat nervously at the other end of the couch, watching Sam as he started to read. 

He hadn't expected Sam to comment so much, though, or how it would make him feel to realize his thoughts were really being heard by someone who cared. When he was only part way through Sam looked up to see tears running down Blaine's face, and slid over to pull him into a tight hug. "It's okay, dude, I've got you," Sam said, and Blaine just let go, secure in the knowledge that Sam wasn't going to recoil in disgust at Blaine's inner turmoil, that their friendship would survive Sam learning what the real Blaine was really like.

Over the next few weeks, Blaine continued to let Sam read his journal. He knew that maybe this wasn't its original purpose, but it was working for him, and he figured that's what mattered. One night he slipped in a paragraph about how good he had felt when Sam stopped by the day before with pizza and a new video game, and how truly grateful he was to have Sam in his life. When Sam read it the next day and looked up at him with a blush and a smile, Blaine felt better than he had in ages.

But now here he was, at a loss for words. And Sam knew why.

"Kurt really threw you today, didn't he?"

Blaine nodded.

"Want to talk about it?" Sam said softly. Although the journal had worked well as a substitute means of communication back when Blaine just couldn't manage to speak, lately Blaine had been trying harder to actually talk with Sam. Because in the end, if he couldn't even talk to his best friend about the things that mattered most to him, he was never going to get better.

"I was surprised," Blaine said, keeping his eyes firmly fixed on his lap. "I mean, Tina said he would be there, but... It was so weird to see him."

"How come?"

Blaine glanced up at Sam, finding that same calm look that he had taken to giving Blaine so often these days, as if he was afraid Blaine would split open with a sharp glance.

"You know how come."

Sam took the journal off Blaine's lap and placed it carefully into his messenger bag, then slid closer to Blaine and rested his head on Blaine's shoulder. "Tell me."

The warmth of Sam's body was soothing, and it was easier to talk, knowing Sam wasn't watching him. Blaine took a breath. "He was nice to me." And how pathetic was it that such a simple thing had him so shaken up.

"You didn't expect that?"

Blaine shook his head. He had imagined that Kurt would be civil, but would probably do his best to ignore him, like he had after the breakup - in those few days before Blaine moved out of the loft, and then whenever they bumped into each other at NYADA. They hadn't even said goodbye when Blaine moved back home. Blaine certainly hadn't thought he would be any part of the reason Kurt showed up for their uncomfortable reunion, but their months apart hadn't diminished Blaine's ability to read Kurt. As perplexing as it was to him, Blaine could tell from the look on Kurt's face that Kurt had in fact _wanted_ to see Blaine today; indeed, Kurt had been focused on him like a laser all through their coffee session.

"I think he was glad to see me," Blaine finally said. Unfortunately all that had done was make Blaine feel more uncomfortable, and then a little guilty for not responding the way Kurt so clearly wanted him to.

"He definitely was," Sam agreed. "Was that not cool?"

"Sort of." Blaine shrugged. "That doesn't make sense, though."

"Well, given everything, he shouldn't have expected you to just be all happy to see him, right?"

"Right." But that wasn't exactly it. There was something else, and it hurt to acknowledge it. "I didn't expect him to care so much. Because if he cared about me..."

"Then why did he break up with you?" Sam asked, completing his thought when Blaine trailed off. Sam shifted, idly playing with the zipper of his jacket, sliding it up and down. "Don't you think Kurt could care about you and still decide he wanted to break up? I mean, I know it's not the same, but Mercedes and I still care about each other."

Blaine resisted the urge to snap at Sam - of course it wasn't the same - but then he let himself think about Sam's words. Could Kurt still care about him, and do what he did? Kurt had almost destroyed him, had caused him to lose practically everything - would Kurt do that to someone he cared about? _Hang on there,_ a voice in his head said sternly. _Kurt didn't know you'd go off the deep end and get axed from NYADA. Your inability to handle a normal life event is not Kurt's problem._

Blaine sighed. He knew his depression wasn't Kurt's fault, and he obviously wouldn't have wanted Kurt to go ahead with their wedding plans when he had such serious doubts. But what he didn't understand was how, if Kurt cared about him, he could have let him go so easily. Blaine had fought so hard for them, why hadn't Kurt done the same? The only rational explanation was that Kurt didn’t care anymore.

But the way Kurt had looked at him today, with such love and concern…. Whatever had been going on in Kurt’s mind when they broke up, it was obvious that he cared now. What good did that do him at this point, though, when the damage was already done?

Blaine realized that Sam was still waiting for him to respond. "I just don't know how to react," Blaine said, feeling his throat tighten up. 

"Do you think you're supposed to react a certain way?"

Blaine laughed, despite the pain in his chest. "You're getting too good at this, Sam."

"Yeah, well, whose idea was it to watch all six seasons of the Sopranos?" It turned out that the crazily violent show about a mob boss with anxiety issues had been strangely addictive. Although the scenes with the therapist hit a little close to home, it was far easier to watch than a rom-com or the reality shows Blaine and Kurt used to devour together. But it seemed like Sam was now employing the active listening lessons he had apparently learned from Tony Soprano’s patient therapist, Dr. Malfi.

"Fine." Blaine took a deep breath and tried to find his train of thought again. "I don't think I have to react a certain way, I know it’s okay to feel whatever I feel. But I think Kurt may have been expecting something different."

"Oh?"

"He apologized, Sam. Kurt never apologizes." 

Sam paused. "I think you may be exaggerating," he said gently. "But yeah, I hear you. Kurt was definitely on a mission today."

Blaine scrubbed at his eyes and sat up, turning to Sam. "What do you mean?" 

"The way he was looking at you the whole time? The way he ran out after us when we left the coffee house? How he practically begged you to talk to him?" 

Blaine gazed at Sam, his heart starting to pound again. "What are you trying to say?"

"I think he figured out he made a mistake. A really awful mistake."

"What mistake?" Blaine whispered, not knowing if he wanted to hear the answer.

"Letting you go."


	3. Chapter 3

Blaine was in his office at Dalton, going over the arrangement for a new number for the Warblers, when he got the text.

**From Kurt:**  
 **It’s Thanksgiving in two weeks. I’m going to be in Lima for a few days. Can I see you?**

Blaine froze, the phone shaking in his hand as he read the message. It was the first communication he had had from Kurt since the day they all met outside the loft. At the time, Blaine had told Kurt that he didn’t want to talk to him. Kurt had said he wanted to be friends again, when Blaine was ready. Was he ready now?

Well, ready or not, he wasn’t going to be able see him at Thanksgiving. But the thought that Kurt was still thinking about him was a good one. Scary, but somehow also good.

**From Blaine:**  
 **Sorry, no. We’re going to visit Cooper in L.A. for the week.**

**From Kurt:**  
 **Oh, that’s too bad. Thanks for responding, though. I wasn’t sure if you would. So thanks.**

Blaine wasn’t sure what to say. He took a deep breath, squeezed his eyes shut, and tried to identify what he was feeling. Truth, stick to the truth.

**From Blaine:**  
 **If I were going to be home, it would have been nice to see you.**

**From Kurt:**  
 **Really?**

Blaine couldn’t tell if Kurt was being sincere or snarky. Was Kurt worried that he wouldn’t want to see him? Before he could come up with an appropriate response, Kurt texted him again.

**From Kurt:**  
 **Can I call you?**

At the thought, his confidence drained right out of him. The idea of talking to Kurt right was frankly terrifying. No, he definitely wasn’t ready.

**From Blaine:**  
 **Don’t push your luck.**

Did that sound too harsh? Maybe he wasn’t ready to talk, but he didn’t want Kurt to regret reaching out to him. He added a winky face, and then hit send.

A moment or two went by, and then Kurt replied.

**From Kurt:**  
 **Can I call Sam?**

Huh. Kurt obviously didn’t need Blaine’s permission to call Sam – but maybe Sam needed Blaine’s okay to talk to Kurt? Blaine wondered if Kurt had tried to call him before, and what Sam had said. Sam could be pretty protective of Blaine, although Blaine was trying not to lean on him so much anymore. 

****From Blaine:**  
 **Sure, but give me a few days to talk to him first.** **

****From Kurt:**  
 **Sam’s a good friend to you.** **

A truer thing had never been said. 

****From Blaine:**  
 **He is.** **

****From Kurt:**  
 **Happy Thanksgiving, Blaine.** **

Blaine’s fingers trembled as he typed out his reply. 

****From Blaine:**  
 **Happy Thanksgiving, Kurt.** **

Blaine put his phone down on his desk, and tried to catch his breath. The memory of another phone call, another tearful “Happy Thanksgiving,” was almost too much to bear. But this right now felt so different than that day, backstage at sectionals his senior year at McKinley. Back then Blaine had been filled with hope when Kurt called him, after weeks of silence, to wish him well. Today it definitely wasn’t hope Blaine was feeling. 

He brought it up with his therapist that week, still struggling to understand what had changed. Dr. Rika asked him to talk about not just how he had been feeling two years ago with regards to Kurt, but how he had been feeling about himself. He remembered that by that time, his bout of mild depression had really passed. And throughout the whole ordeal with Kurt that year, from the moment Blaine screwed up, through every painful and awkward interaction after that, Blaine had wanted nothing more than to talk with Kurt, to reestablish a connection with him. He had such faith that they were meant to be together, that if Blaine could only be patient, could give Kurt whatever he needed, show him how good a boyfriend he could be, Kurt would come around. 

In contrast, two years later, Blaine was aware of his less than ideal mental health every day. Some days he struggled to get out of bed, and spent hours feeling like he was swimming through muddy water, seaweed tugging at his feet, even with his medication. Working at Dalton had helped tremendously, as had exercising regularly, being able to confide in Sam, and of course, therapy. But he wasn’t where he would like to be, that was for certain. 

And these days, when he thinks about Kurt, it was hardly ever with the breathy, giddy excitement he used to feel. Sometimes he still gets a familiar rush of love and affection, but other times the thought of Kurt just brings a sickening combination of anxiety and fear. He wasn’t afraid of Kurt, of course, not physically. But he thought he might be afraid of what Kurt’s words could do to him, if he wasn’t yet strong enough. 

When this particular little tidbit slipped out of his mouth, Dr. Rika pressed him. “Are you worried that Kurt will make you sad, or happy?” she had asked, her face carefully neutral, as always. 

“Exactly.” Blaine had replied. He was used to feeling sad when he thought about Kurt. The possibility that Kurt could make him happy again – well, that was still just a little too scary to contemplate. Because what guarantee did he have that it would last this time? Until he knew he could take it, both the thrill of happiness and its inevitable – or at least, possible - loss, he couldn’t let Kurt too close, even though some days he really, really wanted to. 

Blaine wanted to be strong enough to talk to Kurt again someday. Not quite yet. But maybe soon. 

**********

_Two weeks later_

Kurt was disappointed that he wasn’t going to be able to see Blaine over Thanksgiving. Despite how out of it Blaine had seemed when they all met outside the loft a few months ago, he had hoped that Blaine would come around sooner rather than later. In his experience, Blaine didn’t hold a grudge for very long, especially not where Kurt was concerned. 

But Kurt had soon realized that he had fundamentally misunderstood the situation. It wasn’t just that Blaine’s feelings were hurt, or that he was annoyed, both of would have been understandable. It was that he was ill, and his recovery didn’t have any room for appeasing Kurt’s guilty conscience, or taking part in an all-consuming on-again off-again romantic relationship in which Blaine might be tempted to lose himself before he even had a chance to find himself again. 

At least, that’s how Sam had explained it when Kurt called him last week. Kurt wasn’t sure where Sam had learned all this, or whether it was even accurate, but it did make some degree of sense. “You’re going to have to talk to Blaine about all this eventually,” Sam had continued, “but he’s not ready yet. Don’t push him.” 

“Should I not have asked to see him?” Kurt had asked, his heart breaking just a little bit more at the thought that he had actually made things worse with his request. 

“No, that was definitely okay. Blaine was really happy that you texted.” 

“He was?” 

“Yeah, he was.” 

“But then how do I know what to do? How much is too much?” 

“I don’t know, dude. Just go easy.” Sam paused. “I don’t really get how all this works either. But he still cares about you. That’s what scares him. Be careful, okay?” 

Kurt had taken Sam’s words to heart. He wouldn’t push Blaine. He would be patient. There was too much at stake now to do otherwise. 

Kurt also realized that if Sam could learn enough about Blaine’s condition to be able to explain it to Kurt, Kurt was more than capable of becoming educated as well. He emailed his therapist, who promised to talk with him about it at their next session, and sent him some links to material to read before then. He had stayed up late that night, reading until his eyes burned from staring at his computer. Kurt resolved to try to stop kicking himself for not realizing earlier that Blaine needed help, and try to understand what he could do now, if anything. As much as Carole King’s “It’s Too Late” seemed like an appropriate theme song for his current mood, he wished it could be replaced by something more hopeful. Jason Mraz’s “I Won’t Give Up,” perhaps. 

But now Kurt was at home in Lima, and he couldn’t stop thinking about Blaine. It was probably just as well that Blaine was in California, he thought, otherwise Kurt would have wound up camping out in Blaine’s driveway, hoping to catch a glimpse of him. It came and went, this longing for Blaine, popping up at the oddest times. A week earlier Kurt had been making himself a plate of leftovers for dinner, and managed to drop the container of cashew chicken on the floor. He practically teared up, not just at his ruined meal, but at the memory of how that kind of thing never really bothered Blaine, how Blaine could turn what Kurt would characterize as a disaster into an opportunity for an adventure. Blaine could cheer him out of even his most ridiculous moods by smiling that incredible grin and crooning song lyrics into his ear. Kurt had imagined Blaine distracting him with silly looks and kisses, whisking the mess into the garbage, and pulling him out the door to go to one of their favorite cafés instead. But without Blaine there, Kurt just skipped dinner and crawled into bed, clutched a pillow to his chest, and tried not to cry. 

Of course, neither of them had been very cheerful towards the end. Blaine tried, he really did, but Kurt had just become more stubborn, less willing to be jollied out of whatever was bringing him down. He had seen how he hurt Blaine when he failed to respond to him, but somehow it just annoyed him, that Blaine couldn’t read his mind and figure out that it wasn’t working anymore. 

And Kurt no longer had the right to expect Blaine to help him figure himself out. Blaine was no longer around to soothe him, to hold him, to tell him everything would be okay. To be the only person he could stand to be around when the world just got to be too much. Blaine was gone. And it was no one’s fault but his own. 

Kurt sighed and looked around his dad’s kitchen. Their Thanksgiving meal wasn’t going to cook itself. Or, more accurately, parts of it weren’t going to – other parts were already cooked. When Carole had realized that it was just going to be the three of them for Thanksgiving dinner, she had arranged to buy a pre-cooked turkey breast and side dishes from a restaurant she and Burt liked. All that was left to prepare was a salad, and maybe some stuffed mushrooms as an appetizer. Carole had even bought a pumpkin pie from some big box store, thrilled with what a great deal she had gotten. It was all Kurt could do to smile and nod at this announcement before running out to buy ingredients. He couldn’t very well make another pumpkin pie, of course, that would be too rude, but he was going to do a chocolate pecan tart, and an apple deep dish. Even if there were just three of them, they deserved to have homemade treats on Thanksgiving. 

It wasn’t as if Kurt really had a leg to stand on in the cooking department. He had mostly been living on take-out and meals at the diner since Blaine left. It didn’t seem worth it to cook a whole meal just for himself, and there were no romantic dinner dates or Monday night potlucks anymore. Besides, Blaine had been the one to do most of the cooking, especially if you counted all the pancake breakfasts. Kurt just hoped his dad didn’t find out – he was no longer much of a role model when it came to healthy eating. 

Kurt let his dad and Carole zone out in front of a football game while he set the table. Last year they had all gone to the Anderson’s for Thanksgiving, everyone dressed up and excited to be together. Blaine’s mom and Carole had perched themselves at the kitchen island with a pitcher of mimosas, pretending to fold the napkins while they watched Kurt and Blaine do all the work. Cooper flitted back and forth between the den where their dads were watching football, and the refrigerator in the garage where the beer was stashed, occasionally pausing to point at Blaine until he cackled. Kurt had never felt more like a part of a family. Their future seemed to be so certain, Thanksgivings and Christmases to come laid out before them like the yellow brick road. How very deceitful that vision had been. 

Even with everyone surrounding him, there had still been painful moments, when Finn’s absence hit him hard, but at least he had Blaine’s hand to clutch under the table, his body to sink into when they slipped away for a break before dessert. This year, though, their table felt like a deserted island. Burt had tried to suggest that they eat at the kitchen table, but Kurt had rejected the idea, adamant that the holiday meal take place in the dining room. But as they took their places that afternoon, Carole and Burt on one side, Kurt on the other, empty chairs all around them, Kurt thought he should have listened to his dad. They didn’t take long to eat dinner, and then quickly dispersed, deciding to eat dessert in the living room. At least there the ghosts might not haunt them quite so vividly. 

Kurt retreated to his bedroom early, exhausted from keeping a smile plastered on his face. His dad bid him goodnight with a sad look. Yesterday on the drive back from the airport Kurt had finally told Burt everything about what had happened with Blaine, and what Blaine was going through now. It turned out that Burt had known more than he had let on, had even gone to a Warblers performance with Sam to support Blaine. It didn’t seem fair that his dad had been able to see Blaine when Kurt hadn’t, although he supposed it was a completely different ball of wax. Burt had never hurt Blaine. 

Kurt took out his phone and scrolled to his last text message with Blaine. He consoled himself with the fact that Blaine had said it would have been nice to see him, if he had been in Lima. He couldn’t believe that this was a lost cause, that they could never be friends again, that Blaine would never flash that ridiculous grin at him. What if Blaine was thinking about him right now? Was he comparing this year’s Thanksgiving to last year’s? 

He pressed his eyes shut, wishing he could talk to Blaine, just hear his voice for a moment. But that was off the table – Blaine had been crystal clear that it was too soon. He hadn’t seemed to object to a text, though… Sam had even said that he was happy to get it. Before he could overthink it, Kurt typed out a message and pressed send. 

****From Kurt:**  
 **Thanksgiving isn’t the same without you.** **

A few minutes later, he had his answer. 

****From Blaine:**  
 **Ditto.** **


	4. Chapter 4

_December, 2014_

Kurt was in the kitchen, trying to decide whether to make cinnamon rolls for Christmas morning breakfast or just munch on some cookies until his dad came downstairs, when his phone beeped with a text. It was a picture of Blaine's feet sticking off the end of a beach chair, sparkling blue waves in the distance. "Merry Christmas from beautiful St. John," the message read, and Kurt sank into a chair, tears suddenly prickling behind his eyes. It's the first time Blaine had reached out to him since the breakup, as opposed to Kurt texting him first, and although he doesn't want to read too much into it, it feels like it means everything.

Kurt quickly looked around his house, trying to find something appropriate to snap a picture of. It's a bit of a challenge - while Kurt had been determined not to let his family's Christmas be as mopey as their Thanksgiving had been, it still wasn't particularly festive. 

Kurt reminded himself of Sam's words - don't push, take it easy - and decided to forgo a picture for now. "Merry Christmas to you, too. Looks like you're having fun," he sent back. He didn't let himself write "wish I was there," although he really, really did.

"I am. At least until Cooper comes back and drags me off on his next adventure," Blaine replied.

A few days later there's another picture, of legs dangling in the air over a tangle of green foliage. "Zip lining in Puerto Rico," is the accompanying message from Blaine. Excitement courses through Kurt. Two messages in less than a week? He only takes a minute to respond.

**From Kurt:**  
 **Where are you guys anyway? I thought you said St. John.**

**From Blaine:**  
 **We're on a ten day Caribbean cruise. Didn't Sam tell you?**

**From Kurt:**  
 **No, I haven't talked to him lately.**

**From Blaine:**  
 **Guess he's not the most reliable social secretary.**

There's a pause, then another message from Blaine before Kurt could respond.

**From Blaine:**  
 **Sorry you didn't know I was going to be away. I meant to tell you. Or, well, have Sam tell you.**

**From Kurt:**  
 **That's totally okay, don't worry about it.**

Now Kurt was stuck. Does that sound like he didn't mind that Blaine wasn't home, like Kurt didn't care about not getting to see him? Did telling Blaine he still wants to see him fall into the 'it would make him happy' category, or the 'pushing it' category?

**From Blaine:**  
 **I think I would have liked to have coffee or something, if we were both in Lima at the same time. If you wanted to.**

Kurt nearly jumped up and down with joy. He was pretty sure he squealed.

**From Kurt:**  
 **I would absolutely have wanted to. Anytime, anywhere.**

Blaine didn't reply to this, and Kurt forced himself to relax, practically chanting Sam's words in his head like a mantra. _Go easy, go easy, don't push it._

The next day he called Sam and invited him over to play video games. Sam declined, saying he was taking his little brother to the movies. Kurt wasn't sure he believed him, but that was okay. He was pleased, though, when Sam called him back later that night. They talked pleasantly enough for a while. When Kurt told him about the texts from Blaine, Sam chuckled fondly. "I told him all that sunshine would be good for him. He's making it through this. I keep telling him that, but he doesn't always see it."

"Still go easy?" Kurt asked.

"Still go easy," Sam replied.

A few days later, while Kurt was sitting in the Columbus airport waiting for his delayed flight to leave, Blaine texted him again. This time it was a picture of Blaine's flip-flop clad feet propped up on the railing of a balcony, palm trees swaying in what looked to be a torrential downpour. "Wanted to have lunch on the beach but got rained out. #notsupposedtorainonmyvacation."

Kurt felt that familiar rush of excitement, and typed back right away.

**From Kurt:**  
 **Looks like quite a storm.**

**From Blaine:**  
 **Beautiful and terrifying, just like you.**

Kurt felt all the blood leave his face. Where did that come from? His hands shook as he pressed out a response.

**From Kurt:**  
 **I don't want you to be terrified by me.**

**From Blaine:**  
 **I can’t help it. You hurt me, Kurt.**

**From Kurt:**  
 **I know. And I'm so, so sorry.**

There was a pause, but Kurt could tell from his phone's little dots that Blaine was still typing. Either it was a really long response or Blaine kept changing his message. Finally his reply popped up.

**From Blaine:**  
 **No, I'm sorry. I didn't mean to go there.**

**From Kurt:**  
 **You can say anything you want. I'll listen to whatever you need to tell me.**

Another pause. Please write back, Blaine, he thought to himself. Don't leave it here.

**From Blaine:**  
 **I've got to go inside soon. My feet are getting cold.**

**From Kurt:**  
 **We can't have that. You need to take care of your feet.**

**From Blaine:**  
 **You always did have a thing for my feet.**

**From Kurt:**  
 **Blaine!**

Kurt's head was spinning from how quickly the mood of this conversation kept changing. 

**From Blaine:**  
 **What?**

**From Kurt:**  
 **You can't just say things like that. (And so what if I like your feet. They're attached to you.)**

**From Blaine:**  
 **You told me I could say anything to you. (And I don't mind that you like my feet.)**

Kurt's giggles were interrupted by the announcement that his flight was boarding. He kept typing as he got into line, aware that his now cheerful mood didn't really match that of the rest of the tired crowd shuffling into place.

**From Kurt:**  
 **I've got to go soon - just getting on the plane back to NYC. But your next pic better be of something besides your feet.**

He laughed out loud when his flight landed at LaGuardia and he turned his phone back on. Blaine had sent him a picture of someone else's feet, with the message "Cooper says hi." Kurt grinned and practically hugged his phone to his chest before heading off to claim his luggage. Sam was right. Blaine was definitely doing better.

 

\----

It had been a low-key New Year's Eve in the Anderson household. After the excitement of the cruise, with sunshine and cheer twenty-four seven, Blaine and his family had been ready to collapse when they got finally got home yesterday. They spent the day watching football and eating junk food, then lazily watched Ryan Seacrest on television until the ball finally dropped in Times Square.

Blaine stood up and stretched, and declared his intent to call it a night. His mom followed him down the hallway and gave him a tight hug, her eyes wide and warm as she let him go. "It's a new year, sweetie. It's going to be a good one for you, I can tell."

Blaine smiled and hugged her back. "Thanks, mom. I think so, too."

The amazing thing was, Blaine did think this could be a good year. He was feeling better than he had in ages - not just since the breakup, but maybe even since before he moved to New York. He felt grounded and steady. He had loved his sun-filled vacation, and the chance to spend so much time hanging out with Cooper, but he was also excited to get back to work with the Warblers. Sam was coming over tomorrow to work on some new arrangements, and Blaine was going to help him brainstorm ideas for how to keep the football team motivated in the off season. Even his plans for next year were coming together. 

That brought him to the next thing on his to do list. Technically he didn't have to do it tonight, but it was New Year's Eve, and he wanted to do it now. Hopefully it wouldn't backfire on him, but with the courage he had built up over the past few weeks, he was ready to give it a try.

Blaine closed the door to his room and slid onto his bed, sitting cross-legged with his back up against the headboard. He took a few deep breaths, then found Kurt's name on his phone and pressed call.

Moments later, a breathless Kurt picked up. "Blaine?"

Of course as soon as he heard Kurt's voice, everything Blaine had planned on saying disappeared completely from his mind. "Kurt, um, hi?"

"Hi, hi! I can't believe it's you!"

Blaine could hear noise in the background, and suddenly calling Kurt on New Year's Eve seemed like the stupidest idea ever. "I'm sorry, I shouldn't have called. You're probably busy."

"What? No, I'm not, I'm really not. Hang on." There was a shuffle and a click, and then it was quiet. "That was just the television. The party Elliott took me to was lame, it was filled with drunk people doing drunk things. I left a while ago and came home. I was just sitting here, drinking tea and binge watching the last season of Scandal."

"I'm home now, too," Blaine said. He could picture the scene Kurt had described so easily, Kurt curled up against the side of the couch, their favorite chenille throw tucked around his legs for warmth. "I wanted to wish you a happy new year. I didn't want New Year's to go by without saying it."

"Blaine..." Kurt broke off, and Blaine thought he heard him sniffle.

"Kurt? Are you crying? What's wrong?"

"Nothing, nothing's wrong." Kurt sniffled again and went on, his voice cracking. "It's just so good to hear your voice. You can't even imagine...."

"I think I can." 

"Yeah?"

"It's good to hear your voice too."

"It's not terrifying?" Kurt said hesitantly.

Blaine huffed out a laugh. "Not at the moment. Mildly shocking, maybe."

Kurt laughed. "God, I've missed you."

Blaine froze for a moment, feeling his heart pound in his chest. "I've missed you too."

"Sorry, was that too much? Sam will kill me," Kurt said, his last few words trailing off into an aside.

"No, it's not too much, it's okay."

"Yeah?" Kurt asked.

"Yeah." And it really was.

"Good. Well, um, did your parents let you have an obligatory glass of champagne this year?" 

"No, actually. Alcohol doesn't mix with my meds." Blaine sat silent for a moment, wishing he had given some other answer, but it was too late. "I mean, a glass or so occasionally probably wouldn't make a difference, but alcohol is a depressant, and... I'm sorry, you don't need to hear all this."

"No, I'm sorry," Kurt said insistently, "it was a stupid thing to ask. I know you shouldn't drink, I just wasn't thinking."

Blaine bit his lip, intrigued at Kurt's response. "What do you mean, you know I shouldn't drink?"

Kurt huffed out a laugh. "Okay, this is hard to admit, but I was kind of humbled by Sam's knowledge about what you were going through, back when I talked to him before Thanksgiving. So I talked to my therapist about it, and she gave me some stuff to read about depression in young adults, different treatments, people's experiences, that kind of thing. I promise, I really did try to educate myself, despite all evidence to the contrary tonight."

Blaine felt strangely exposed, and touched. "That's, um, that's really nice, Kurt. You didn't have to do that."

"But I did," Kurt said softly. "If you're sick, I want to know how to help."

Blaine lay down on the bed, sliding under the covers and pulling them tight around himself. It was strange, talking with Kurt about his condition. "But I'm a lot better now," he assured him, trying to sound confident.

"I know, and I'm so glad. But it doesn't really go away, right?" 

Blaine felt sick to his stomach at Kurt’s words, gentle as they were. This was the awful punch line in his whole horrible joke of a life. Even if he was better now, there was no guarantee he would stay that way. And now that Kurt knew it...

"I just keep thinking that if I had known more, before, we might have been able to catch it before things got so bad for you. Hopefully, if things get bad again, I can help."

Blaine just lay there, trying not to freak out at what Kurt was saying. Had Kurt really thought about what his condition was going to mean for him - for them - long term? Was he talking about them getting back together? His thoughts were racing, and he forced himself to take some deep breaths, gradually realizing that Kurt was speaking to him.

"Blaine? Are you still there? Are you okay?"

"Yeah, I'm here," he finally choked out. "Just a little overwhelmed, I guess."

"Oh shit, I'm sorry! Sam really is going to kill me."

Blaine sat up gingerly, too curious about what Kurt was saying to cut off their line of conversation, even if it was nervewrackingly awkward. "That's the second time you've said that. What have you done to make Sam homicidal? He's usually so easy-going."

Kurt laughed. "Sam told me not to push you. That you'd talk to me when you were ready. Please, don't be mad. He loves you like crazy, you know."

"I know. I'm not mad. And you didn't push." Blaine struggled to find the words to say what he was feeling. "It's still really scary, sometimes, knowing I have this thing, a mental illness. It's hard to come to terms with it. And knowing you know - I mean, obviously you know, but still... Yeah. It's weird."

"I hear what you're saying," Kurt said slowly. Blaine got the feeling he was choosing his words carefully. "It's really personal, and you're trusting me with it, even after everything. And I get that it's scary, having this. I'm a little scared for you. But I'm not scared _of_ you. In lots of ways, maybe depression is just like any other crappy thing that people get. Now that you know you have it, you treat it as best you can, with the support of the people who love you." 

"Like you?" The words slipped out before he could stop them.

"Like me."

Blaine's heart seemed to freeze in his chest, and he held still, stunned by the confidence in Kurt's matter of fact statement. But something was still bothering him.

“I don’t want to fight about this, Kurt, but I have to ask. Why the sudden interest in supporting me? You didn’t want anything to do with me, before, when you broke up with me.” 

There was a pause, and when Kurt spoke, it was with a laser beam intensity. “I screwed up, Blaine. Plain and simple. And I am so, so, sorry. But please believe me, I never stopped caring about you. I don’t think it’s possible for me to stop caring about you.”

Funny thing was, Blaine did believe him. “Okay.”

“Okay?” Kurt asked, apparently expecting more than that. But that’s all there was.

“Yeah.”

After a moment or two, Kurt spoke up again, his voice calm. He seemed to recognize that Blaine was all talked out. "It's getting late, I should probably get some sleep. But in case I wasn't clear earlier, I'm really, really glad you called tonight. Maybe we can talk again sometime?"

"I'd like that."

"Happy new year, Blaine."

"Happy new year, Kurt." Blaine switched off his light and snuggled deeper into his blankets. He smiled to himself, the sound of Kurt’s soft voice still echoing in his ears. Awkward or not, talking to Kurt was definitely the right way to start off the new year.


	5. Chapter 5

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> “A rebuilding year.” Blaine nodded, the truth of the words sinking into him. “For all of us, I think.”

_January, 2015_

Blaine brushed the snow off his coat as he came into the Lima Bean, pleased to see that Rachel was here already. She was looking very put together in a belted black coat with yellow trim and a neat matching handbag and hat, bundled up against the weather but still in keeping with her own particular brand of chic. 

“Blaine!” Rachel called out as she saw him, and pulled him into a tight hug. “It’s so good to see you! Go find us a table and I’ll get our drinks. It’s crowded here today, but I think there’s one in the corner that won’t be too drafty,” she rattled on. “ I’m having their decaf chai tea latte – want to try one?”

“Sure,” Blaine agreed, and wound his way back through the store to find an empty table. He was just hanging up his coat and getting settled when Rachel returned. She smiled as he took her coat as well.

“Always the gentleman,” she commented, sitting down and pressing her hands along her mini skirt to straighten it out. She gazed up at him and sighed.

“What?”

Rachel just shrugged a shoulder and smiled broadly at him. “You just look really good. So tan, and, your shoulders in that shirt…” Rachel trailed off. She was trying to keep a straight face but the smile in her eyes gave her away. 

“Rachel, are you checking me out?” Blaine would have been embarrassed, except that this was Rachel, after all. 

“What can I say, old habits die hard,” she joked.

“You’re ridiculous.”

She laughed. “I’m sorry, I’m not trying to make you feel uncomfortable. But honestly – you look great. You’ve clearly kept up the boxing, haven’t you?” Rachel reached over and poked at Blaine’s bicep. He had to admit that his arms looked pretty nice in his slim-fitting plaid shirt.

“I have. And Sam’s a pretty tough task master.”

“Oooh, do tell!”

“Very funny.” Blaine smiled. He couldn’t help but notice the way Rachel kept glancing down at her phone. “Expecting a call?”

“What? Oh, no. I just thought it might be nice to take a picture. It’s been so long since we’ve seen each other.”

Blaine had a feeling he knew where this was going, and he found, to his surprise, that he didn’t really mind. Especially not if he looked as good as Rachel seemed to think. He had even managed to get his hair to behave today. “Okay, fine.”

Rachel scooted around next to him and she took a few selfies of them, scrolling through the pictures with approval. “We still make a lovely couple,” she said playfully.

“I’m glad you think so.” Blaine considered his options, and then decided to call her on it. “You can send it to him.”

“What?” Rachel asked, her voice squeaking higher. “Oh, you mean Kurt?”

“Yes.”

Rachel finally looked somewhat abashed. “Are you sure?”

“I’m sure.”

She gave a soft smile, and then turned to her phone, typing for a moment before looking up again. “He misses you a lot, you know.”

Blaine nodded, his throat suddenly tightening up.

“He had no idea what he was doing, Blaine. He’s so lonely without you.”

Blaine just blinked at her, not sure how to respond to this. 

“God, I’m sorry, that’s not fair at all, is it?” Rachel said, shaking her head. 

“No, it’s really not.” Blaine took a deep breath. There wasn’t any point in getting angry with Rachel, especially when she looked so sincerely concerned. “I’m trying, I truly am. It’s not like I asked for any of this.” Not the breakup, and not his screwed up brain.

“I know, I’m an idiot, Blaine. And you’ve clearly been doing something right – you seem like you’re in a much healthier place, you know, mentally.”

“Not to mention my toned biceps,” Blaine said lightly, hoping to turn the conversation around.

“Exactly.” Rachel smiled at him again. “Sam says you’ve done wonders with the Warblers – congratulations on winning Sectionals, by the way.”

Blaine blushed. Their win had caught him by surprise, as had the praise lavished on him by the Dalton faculty and the students’ parents. The Warblers hadn’t won Sectionals honestly since Blaine was a student at Dalton, and apparently the connection wasn’t lost on anyone. Personally Blaine was even more proud of the win in his role as coach, but he kept that little bit of happiness tucked safe inside his chest where he could pull it out and treasure it on bad days.

“It’s no big deal. Things have been getting better. Just a matter of readjusting my brain chemistry,” he said with a shrug.

Rachel narrowed her eyebrows at him. “I know it’s not that simple. Medication isn’t magic. You must have been working really hard, too, every day. I can’t imagine going through that – and dealing with all those teenaged boys at the same time.”

Blaine loved how Rachel’s comment seemed to put so much space between herself and those “teenaged boys.” “There have been some trying moments,” Blaine agreed. “There’s always drama in show choir, I suppose.”

Rachel twisted her paper cup around in her hands, momentarily uncertain. “Did I tell you where I went to hide out, after my show was cancelled?”

Blaine shook his head.

“I stayed with Shelby.”

“Really?” This could be interesting. The last Blaine had heard, Shelby was running a day care for actors’ kids in New York. But that had been ages ago. “What’s she up to?”

“She was taking some time off, actually. We stayed at her house on Long Island – it’s out on the North Fork, not as trendy as the Hamptons, but with lots of beautiful beaches nearby, peaceful places to walk and relax and just be. I spent weeks with her, helping take care of Beth, just kind of bonding, you know?”

Blaine nodded.

“She told me a lot about her career, how she had lots of ups and downs too. I think she was really worried about me.”

“I can see how she would be.” From what Blaine had heard, losing the television show – after giving up Fanny – had really thrown Rachel for a loop.

Rachel went on. “She told me about one of her worst experiences, getting kicked out of a Broadway role after a fight with the director when she was in her early twenties. That’s when she realized she had clinical depression. It took her a long time to feel okay again.” Rachel took a deep breath and met Blaine’s eyes. “She felt like it was important for me to be aware of it, since, you know, brain chemistry,” Rachel said, waving at her own head, “and I’m about the same age now as she was then.” 

Blaine reached out and took Rachel’s hand, holding it gently in his. “Just because Shelby has it doesn’t mean…”

“I know. But it could happen. It can happen to anyone.” She squeezed his hand and smiled at him. “You’re not alone, Blaine.”

He smiled back, feeling warmth spreading through him. Despite all her faults, Rachel was one of the few people that really did seem to understand him. “Thanks, Rachel.”

She sat up straighter and grinned. “So, next topic. Seen any good movies lately?”

Blaine laughed. “Nice segue.”

“Well, I don’t want you to think I’m just here on a reconnaissance mission or anything.”

“But you are, aren’t you?”

“What? No, I am not just here to spy on you for Kurt,” Rachel said, offended.

“Rachel, you just admitted you’re here in part in order to spy for Kurt,” Blaine teased.

“Well, duh.”

“But that’s not the whole reason.”

“No, of course not. I wanted to see you.”

“And… you’re here for the new and improved New Directions.”

“Blaine! How did you know?”

“A little birdie who works at McKinley told me,” Blaine said, smiling.

“A little birdie?” Rachel asked.

“Maybe more like a goofy yellow lab with big green eyes?”

“Sam talks a lot.” Rachel sighed. “It’s true, I’m trying to start up the New Directions again, and I was hoping to get some pointers from you.”

“It’s too late to compete this year, though, isn’t it?”

“Yeah, but as much as it might astound you to hear this coming from me, it’s not all about competing.”

“Gasp! Who are you, and what have you done with Miss Rachel Berry?”

Rachel smirked and hit him gently on the shoulder. “I love it when you’re sassy. But no, seriously, I know we can’t compete this year. I just want these kids to experience something special, like we did. Let them have a chance to sing together, and see what happens. It’s a rebuilding year.”

“A rebuilding year.” Blaine nodded, the truth of the words sinking into him. “For all of us, I think.”


	6. Chapter 6

_February, 2015_

Blaine settled himself on his bed, picked up his phone, and dialed. He had procrastinated for most of the night, but now it was time. He had spoken with Kurt on the phone a few times since New Year’s, but his stomach still fluttered with butterflies as he pressed on Kurt’s number.

“Hi,” Kurt said, picking up on the first ring. “Blaine, hi!”

“Hey, Kurt. Do you have a minute?”

“Of course. Hang on one second,” Blaine heard Kurt shuffling around. “I kind of got tangled in my blankets when my phone rang.”

“I’m sorry, did I wake you?”

“No, no, I was just sacked out on the couch. What’s up?”

Blaine took a deep breath. He could do this. “I’m coming to New York next week, and…” keep breathing, he told himself, “I wondered if you’d like to get together.”

Blaine could swear he heard Kurt stifle a squeal. “I’d love that. Do you want to stay here? There’s not much room, but you’d be more than welcome. I’d take the couch of course-”

“Thanks, but I’m staying with Wes.” 

“Oh, okay.” Kurt sounded a little disappointed. But he had to understand why, right?

“Yeah, I’m looking forward to seeing him.”

“So, are you just coming to visit Wes?”

“I’ve actually got an interview with Tisch at NYU.” Blaine said proudly. A few months ago, he hadn’t known if he was ever going to want to go back to college at all, and now he was truly excited about it. And he thought he actually had a good shot at getting into Tisch. Although it wasn’t as selective as NYADA – almost no place was – it was a highly respected drama school, and he would be thrilled to get in.

“That’s great, Blaine,” Kurt sounded happy for him. “They’d be lucky to have you.” 

“Thanks,” Blaine said. “I’m nervous about it,” he confessed.

“Of course, everyone gets nervous for this kind of thing. It would be weird if you weren’t nervous.”

“Yeah, but not everyone had a breakdown and got kicked out of NYADA.”

There was a pause, and Blaine wondered if he shouldn’t have gone there. “Frankly, I would think Tisch would be thrilled to steal you away from NYADA,” Kurt suggested. “Anyway, it’s not like you fell and hurt your talent.” 

Blaine laughed at one of their favorite Rachel-isms, which he knew was probably why Kurt said it in the first place. “Well, I’ve practiced how I’m going to explain it. I’m going to tell the truth and let the chips fall where they may. Hopefully my work coaching the Warblers to a successful Sectionals win will impress them.”

“Don’t sell yourself short – you could win Regionals, too.”

“Yeah, but not by next week.” Blaine laughed again, and Kurt joined in. God, why did Kurt have to have such a beautiful laugh?

“So, what’s your plan? When do you get in? Do you want to try to catch a show? There’s a band Dani told me about that’s playing next week, it’s supposed to be like Great Big World crossed with Pentatonix.”

Blaine smiled. “As awesome as that sounds, I don’t have that much time. I get in Sunday, I’ve got NYU stuff all day Monday, then I fly home Tuesday night. I didn’t want to miss too much work. I was thinking maybe lunch on Tuesday?”

“That sounds perfect,” Kurt said, although he didn’t sound so happy anymore. 

Blaine sighed to himself. He really, really wanted to see Kurt, but he needed to protect himself, too. He wasn’t sure how he’d feel when he was back in New York, for the first time in months. He was nervous as hell about his interview. There was only so much nailbiting he could put himself through in anticipation of this trip. He wasn’t sure how to convey this to Kurt, but he wanted him to know how he was feeling. He figured he’d stick to the positive. “I’m glad – I was hoping you’d be free.” That was certainly true.

“Blaine, if you’re going to be right here in New York, there is literally nothing short of my dad having another heart attack that could stop me from seeing you.”

Oh. Well, no pressure, then. 

Kurt seemed to realize he had skated close to the line, and tried to bring the conversation back on track. “Did you have somewhere in mind to go for lunch? You pick – you’ve only got a few days to enjoy all the food that the city can offer.”

“Would you mind if we went to Niko’s? I’ve been dreaming about their cheeseburgers.” Niko’s had always been one of their favorite places, but it wasn’t overly romantic, and Blaine thought it wouldn’t bring back too many difficult memories.

“Niko’s it is.”

“Great.” Blaine had accomplished what he set out to do, but he realized he didn’t want to get off the phone yet. “Do you have time to talk a little more? I know it’s late.”

“Yeah, I have time.”

Maybe they could just have a normal conversation, now that Blaine had gotten through the hard part. “So, tell me about what’s been going on with you. Any good scandals at NYADA?”

A pause. “Not that I know of. I’ve been spending most of my time at the Lexington Home this year. I just go to NYADA twice a week to check in with my work study supervisor, and for junior year seminar.”

“Are you involved in any groups there anymore? That playwriting workshop you did last year? The new version of Adam’s Apples, perhaps?”

“No, nothing like that.”

“How come? You could start your own group.”

Kurt was strangely unresponsive, and Blaine didn’t know what to make of it. Usually Kurt was good at keeping their conversations going, even when Blaine wasn’t. He tried to think of something else to talk about. “Well, how’s Elliot? Has he dragged you out to any wild parties lately? Introduced you to more of his crazy friends? He always seemed to like getting you into trouble.”

Silence.

Blaine couldn’t think of anything else to say. Maybe Kurt was just sleepy, dozing off to the sound of his voice. It wouldn’t be the first time. Or he just didn’t have anything else to say to Blaine. He should let him off the hook. “Well, I’m pretty tired, I should get to sleep-”

“No, please don’t go,” Kurt choked out, and Blaine began to think there was something more going on than just a lack of interesting conversation topics or their own awkward situation. 

"Kurt, is something wrong?"

Kurt said nothing. Something was definitely wrong. Blaine pressed his eyes shut, trying to imagine what Kurt was doing. Trying to remember what he could do here, to help. Like he used to. If Kurt would let him. “Why don’t you get into bed,” he suggested. 

“Okay,” was the quiet reply, followed by the squeak of floorboards.

"Turn off the lights and talk to me," Blaine said softly. Sometimes in those weeks after they got engaged, when Blaine was still in Lima, they would spend long hours on the phone together at night, each curled up around a pillow, talking on their phones in the dark until one or the other of them fell asleep. It helped to bridge the distance, to give them the illusion of physical closeness even when they were miles apart. There was no reason it couldn’t still work now.

"Okay," Kurt said again. "Are you in bed too?"

"I am." Blaine switched off his lamp, and got under the covers. The feeling of déjà vu was almost overwhelming. “Close your eyes.”

"Blaine, are you sure you want to do this? I'm okay, really."

It was nice of Kurt to give him an out, but Blaine knew something was up, and he was determined to see if he could help. He knew he wasn’t the only one having a hard year. "I'm okay too," Blaine said, and thought that, for a nice change, he really did mean it. "Tell me what's wrong."

He heard Kurt take a deep breath and let it out slowly, the air buzzing against the phone. "It's really nothing new. I just feel so alone sometimes. I've been working with my therapist for months on how to let people in, how to make real friends, but except for Elliott and the occasional McKinley alum that stops by to sleep on my couch, I'm still mostly on my own. And yes, Elliott keeps dragging me to things, and I usually say no, but tonight I went with him… it was this stupid party, and there were some NYADA seniors there that never really liked me -"

"Joseph and Franny?"

"Yes, _exactly._ ” Kurt paused. “Do you know how nice it is, to talk to someone who actually knows what I’m talking about?” He went on, apparently not really needing Blaine to answer. “Anyway, now they've got some little freshman minions, and they were pretending to be civil to me, but everything they said was just some excuse to make a snarky comment about my outfit, or my last performance, or my personal life..."

"Your personal life? What do you mean? Isn't Joseph gay too?"

"Yeah, he is, it wasn't that."

"What was it?"

A long moment went by, and Blaine would have wondered if the line had gotten cut off if he hadn't been able to hear Kurt breathing into the phone. "You know, it's not important. We hardly ever get to talk and this isn’t what we should be talking about, why don't you tell me more about the Warblers, you guys are doing so well, we could brainstorm ideas for your next set list…” Kurt rambled on, not even trying to camouflage his attempt to change the subject.

"Kurt," Blaine interrupted him, "didn't you say you wanted us to be friends?"

Blaine could almost see Kurt's eyebrows shoot up. "Yes, of course I want us to be friends," Kurt said breathlessly.

"It sounds like you need a friend right now. So tell your friend what those jealous, hateful bastards said that has got you so upset."

Another long moment went by, but Blaine could hear Kurt take in a deep breath, and he seemed to make up his mind. "They called me _frigid._ A frigid bitch, to be precise. Apparently a rumor has been going around NYADA that that's why you and I broke up. Started by these cretins, probably."

Ouch. "But that's ridiculous. We broke up ages ago, and everyone knows..." that Kurt had broken up with him, not the other way around. Suddenly it was hard to say the words. Going to school after their breakup had been torture for Blaine. Barely a day had gone by before it seemed that everyone knew Kurt had broken off their engagement, their classmates so eager to offer their sympathy and pity that it was hard for Blaine to even enter the building.

"No one seems to be interested in the truth, not these guys, anyway. They just saw me standing by myself at Erin's party tonight and decided to pounce. And you know me, normally this kind of thing wouldn't even phase me, it would bounce right off, but tonight... it just hit me harder than I expected. I got out of there, walked around for a little bit, and then came back home."

"Oh, Kurt, I'm so sorry."

"It’s not a big deal. I'll be fine." 

Blaine could tell when Kurt was trying to cover up his feelings; he had had plenty of experience with it. “It’s okay to be upset about it, Kurt.”

There was no reply, and Blaine thought he knew what Kurt was thinking. Why he was actually upset. "They’re wrong, you know," Blaine said quietly. "You're not frigid."

"No? You sure?" The hurt was evident in Kurt's shaky voice. "Even with you, my fiancé, the person I thought I was going to spend the rest of my life with, I was cold. Distant. I didn't let you in, not as far as you deserved. And when things got rough, I shut you out."

There was an element of truth to this, Blaine knew, but that didn’t mean Kurt was incapable of love. He just had a hard time showing it sometimes. And Blaine knew that not being able to love, and be loved in return, was one of Kurt’s greatest fears.

"But you can love, Kurt. You can, and you do. You love your dad, you'd do anything for him. You love Rachel, and god knows that can be challenging. You loved Finn." Blaine paused, his heart aching at what sounded like Kurt trying to stifle his tears. He knew what he had to say next, what Kurt needed to hear, even though it was the last thing he had expected to be talking about tonight. 

"You love me, Kurt. I know you do. You loved me when we were together, and you love me now. I feel it, even if you don’t think I do."

Blaine sank deeper into his pillow, a strange calmness coming over him as he listened to Kurt try to catch his breath. He didn't doubt it at all, he realized. Kurt did love him still. 

"Blaine?" Kurt asked brokenly. "I do. I do love you. I love you so much."

"I know, sweetheart. I know."

Blaine took a long time to fall asleep that night, his conversation with Kurt running over and over through his mind. He wanted to know more, about Kurt’s work with his therapist, about what he had learned about himself. About what it might mean for them. Blaine wasn’t ready for a relationship with Kurt again now, he knew that. But he was beginning to believe, with a tiny, fragile, sliver of hope, that someday he might be.


	7. Chapter 7

The day after Kurt had broken down on the phone with Blaine, the texts started to come. Just little things – Blaine commenting on how slow the line was at the Lima Bean, passing on a funny joke he heard from Sam, forwarding a little snippit of a song the Warblers were singing. It was as if Blaine knew how shaken up Kurt felt after their conversation, and he just wanted him to know he was there. Kurt had to admit, it helped. Blaine made him feel a little less alone. He helped him push aside that voice that nagged at him that he was unlovable, not worth anyone’s effort. Because Blaine was clearly making an effort.

The texts kept coming, and Kurt smiled every time. Even when he got the one that began “I have a favor to ask you…”

It was how he had wound up here at Vogue.com, on a Monday night, with Wes and his girlfriend Miri. Apparently Miri was a fashionista, and Blaine had thought it might be nice for Kurt to give her a tour of the Vogue costume vaults, as part of a thank you to Wes for putting Blaine up when he visited. While it wasn’t how Kurt had hoped to spend his time – Blaine wasn’t even with them, he was meeting with the director of the music program at NYU – Kurt had to admit he was having fun showing off his workplace. 

As Miri was exclaiming over the shoe collection, Kurt having given her permission to try on a few pairs, Wes approached him. Wes hadn’t changed much over the years, Kurt thought. He was in law school now at Columbia, which seemed like an appropriate path for him to take, given his propensity towards order and rule following. Maybe someday he’d even wield a gavel for real.

“Thanks for this, Kurt,” Wes said sincerely. “Miri’s having the time of her life.”

He smiled. “I can see that.” Luckily Miri’s foot seemed to be the right size for many of the shoes. She looked at each one with awe before reverently sliding her feet into them and striking a pose. Kurt liked her already – she was sort of a Chinese version of Quinn, confident and mature, with a splash of fiery Santana thrown in. She nicely balanced Wes’ stoic demeanor.

“There was something I wanted to ask you, however,” Wes went on, drawing Kurt’s attention back to him.

Kurt turned. “Yes?”

“What are your intentions towards Blaine?”

Wes really hadn’t changed. “Are you serious?” 

“Dead serious.”

Well, Wes was one of Blaine’s oldest friends, and Kurt supposed he had a right to be concerned about Blaine. Truth time. “Honestly? I can’t imagine my future without him.”

“It might not be the future you imagined.”

Now that was unnecessarily ominous. No way was Wes going to throw him. Kurt knew full well that he and Blaine weren’t going to go dancing off into the distance tomorrow, but that didn’t mean they couldn’t have a future, and a good one at that. “Maybe not. But it could be even better.”

Wes looked like he was going to argue with him, but then his phone buzzed. He stepped away from Kurt, digging his phone out of his pocket and reading the text.

“Blaine’s done and wants to meet up with us. Sound good to you?”

Kurt felt a wave of panic. Now? He hadn’t thought he’d see Blaine until tomorrow. His hands went to his hair and he quickly scanned over his outfit. He was wearing what he considered his “Vogue clothes” – more fashion forward than what he would have chosen for seeing Blaine for the first time since that meeting outside the loft months ago. What if Blaine didn’t like it? He had never been into Kurt’s crazier outfits, although he seemed to like them fine on Kurt…

“Kurt?” Wes interrupted his inner monologue. “You really aren’t considering saying no, are you?”

Kurt drew in a deep breath. “No, of course not. Sounds great. I’m in.”

An hour later, they arrived at a wine bar near Wes’s apartment. Blaine waved at them from a table near the back, and Kurt could barely take in the dark paneling and softly twinkling lights as he followed Wes and Miri through the restaurant, his eyes focused on Blaine. Finally he was there, and Blaine was sliding off his stool and coming towards him.

“Kurt. Hi.” 

He saw a determined look flash over Blaine’s face, and then he was pulled into a hug. Kurt squeezed him back, but it was over too quickly, Blaine pulling away with a happy smile.

When the waiter came to take their orders they picked out some tapas and other little snacks, Miri insisting that they get the goat cheese soufflé because it tasted like nothing else on earth, while Wes went with a more traditional olive tray and some sautéed prawns. Kurt ordered a soda, and Blaine gave him a look that Kurt couldn’t really decipher. “You can have wine, Kurt,” he whispered as the waiter poured a bottle of dark cabernet that Wes had ordered. 

Kurt just shrugged. “I’m good.” And he was.

The evening passed pleasantly. Kurt’s first impression of Miri was confirmed as she regaled them with the story of how she and Wes had met, and how she finally had convinced him to take a break from his constant studying to devote some time to romance. Blaine was relaxed, chatting easily with Wes, batting his eyes at Miri just enough to amuse her, and glancing Kurt’s way when he thought he wasn’t looking.

The contrast between tonight and the last time he had seen Blaine was striking. For one, Blaine was sitting next to him at the small hightop table, their knees and thighs occasionally brushing when one of them moved to reach for an olive or a piece of bread. And Blaine not only seemed okay with this, he seemed to like it, a tiny smile dancing over his lips when he felt Kurt touch him. The most remarkable difference, however, was how the light had returned to Blaine’s eyes. It made Kurt want to cheer.

It was getting late, and although nothing profound had been said, no deep confessions shared, Kurt thought the evening had been a tremendous success. As they got up to leave, Kurt saw a flash of uncertainty pass over Blaine’s face. He thought he knew what Blaine was worried about. As lovely and perfect as tonight was, he wasn’t trading it for his not-a-date- with Blaine tomorrow. “So, we’re still on for lunch at Niko’s tomorrow, right? I’ve been looking forward to their cheeseburgers ever since you mentioned it.”

Blaine met his eyes and smiled. “Me too. See you at one?”

Kurt nodded and then, unable to help himself, pulled Blaine into a tight hug. Not wanting the moment to end without making sure Blaine knew what he was feeling, he whispered into Blaine’s ear. “Thank you for giving me the chance to be your friend again. Life isn’t the same without you.” He squeezed him harder and released him, catching a glimpse of Blaine’s blush and giddy smile as Kurt said his goodbyes to Wes and Miri and then headed out of the restaurant. 

*****

The next day dawned gray and wet. Kurt was reminded uncomfortably of the night he and Blaine broke up, seated in one of their favorite cafés while the rain poured down around them. He got to Niko’s a few minutes early and secured a table by the open fireplace. It was a small neighborhood restaurant that hadn’t yet fallen prey to the theory that upscale is always better, and it had always been one of their favorites with its casual atmosphere and cozy feel. Kurt settled in with a book and a cup of tea and waited for Blaine to arrive.

Kurt was absorbed in the biography of Bob Fosse he was reading for school, and it was almost one-thirty by the time he realized that Blaine was late. He quickly checked his phone, but there was no message from Blaine, and a palpable wave of disappointment washed over him. Things had been going so well between them – their phone call last week, all the texts, and then the wonderful evening with Wes and Miri last night. Had something gone wrong?

He breathed deeply, trying to calm himself down. It didn’t have to be a big deal. Kurt typed out a text to Blaine, and hoped for the best. “Got us a great table by the fire. Everything ok?”

A few minutes went by, during which Kurt nearly bit off his thumbnail. Blaine finally replied. “So sorry. Is it too late?”

That’s the six million dollar question, isn’t it, Kurt thought to himself. “Absolutely not. Take your time. I’ll be here.”

A few minutes later, Kurt wandered up to the hostess station, figuring he’d let them know he was waiting for Blaine. To his surprise, he saw Blaine standing on the sidewalk outside the restaurant, his scarf pulled up around his ears. Without thinking, he dashed outside, shivering as soon as the freezing air hit his skin.

“Blaine, you’re here,” he said stupidly. 

Blaine jumped at his voice. “Oh, you’re leaving, that’s okay. We’ll do it another time.”

Kurt clamped down on the “are you nuts” that almost flew out of his mouth, and took a deep breath instead. “I wasn’t leaving,” he said as gently as he could. “See – no coat on. I was just checking to see if you were here.”

Blaine looked Kurt up and down, and seemed to realize the truth of his words. “It’s too cold to be out here without a jacket.”

“I couldn’t agree more. Please, come on in?”

Blaine followed Kurt back inside, but stalled just inside the door.

“Blaine?”

He wouldn’t meet Kurt’s eyes, and Kurt frantically searched his mind for a solution. “Hey,” he said softly, coming as close to Blaine as he dared, and trying to catch his glance. “We don’t have to do this, if it’s too much. I really want to spend time with you, but I’ll understand if you need to go.” Blaine flicked his eyes up to Kurt’s briefly, and Kurt ached at how hard this obviously was for Blaine. “Or if you just don’t want to spend an hour sitting and staring at each other, we can do something else. There’s a great new little menswear store a few blocks away, it’s got some bowties I know you’d love.” Blaine kept his eyes down, but seemed to nod a little.

“Just let me get my coat and pay for my tea, ok? I’ll be right back.”

Kurt went to the table and pulled out his wallet. When he turned to grab his coat, he bumped right into Blaine, who had come up behind him while he was searching for change. Blaine glanced at Kurt apologetically, then shrugged off his own coat and sat down. Kurt sat too, relieved when Blaine looked up at him, eyes wide but no longer so full of panic. 

“The cheeseburgers really do smell good, don’t they,” Kurt said wryly.

“They really do,” Blaine breathed out. 

They sat in silence for a few minutes, until the waiter had taken their orders and the menus were out of the way. “I’m so sorry, Kurt. I just… I know you’ve got to be wondering how I could seem so normal last night, and then freak out on you today.”

“No, not at all.” Kurt shook his head emphatically.

“No?”

“Ok, maybe a little,” Kurt admitted.

“Don’t try to protect my feelings. It won’t help. I’m working really hard at telling you when I’m not okay, and I want you to be honest with me too.”

Well, that stung a bit, but Blaine was right. “All right. I’m sorry.”

Blaine sighed. “Honestly, I wish I knew what happened.” He looked lost, and it pained Kurt to see it.

“Tell me more?”

“I don’t know. The past few days have been so good. Staying with Wes is awesome. I even went to his chorus rehearsal Sunday night, they’re amazing. And my interview at NYU went really well. Hanging out with you last night was great… Then today everything just collapsed. It’s hard to explain.”

“It makes sense to me,” Kurt said. Blaine just raised an eyebrow at him. “When there are things I’m doing that take a lot out of me – interacting with idiots, for the most part, or pretty much anyone that isn’t you, dad, or Rachel – I can only do it for so long. I need time to recharge, to be alone. If I have to just keep going, it doesn’t go well.”

Blaine was giving him his full attention. “What do you mean, it doesn’t go well?”

“I close up. I retreat.”

“Even from me.”

Kurt nodded. “I never really realized how it worked before. Why sometimes I just couldn’t deal with people, even people I care about. But I’m learning.” He took a breath and let it out slowly. “I’m not saying it’s the same for you. But maybe you just got overwhelmed with everything, with all the mental energy it took to get through the last few days. It’s okay.”

Blaine’s eyes were still wide as he gazed at Kurt, but something in his expression had relaxed. They were interrupted by the arrival of their meals, burgers in brioche rolls that did in fact smell heavenly. Blaine had ordered a side salad and Kurt the sweet potato fries, and they rolled their eyes at themselves as they each took a little from the other’s plate, the familiar practice as comfortable now as it always had been.

When Blaine had finished half his burger – the other half neatly pushed to the side of his plate – he shifted in his seat and wrapped his hands together in his lap. “I want to thank you for this, Kurt,” he said seriously.

Kurt looked up. “For what?”

“For being so understanding.”

Kurt huffed out a dry laugh. “You don’t owe me any thanks. It’s the least I can do, considering what a mess I’ve made of things.” Blaine didn’t respond. “I know there’s nothing I can do to magically fix everything between us, but if I could, I would. You know that, right?”

“It’s not that easy,” Blaine said.

“I know. But it’s getting better, don’t you think?”

Blaine looked up, a flicker of hope in his eyes. “I do.”

“Do you ever think about what it would be like if we got back together?”

Blaine’s eyes narrowed and he sat back in his chair. “You can’t ask me that.”

Kurt sighed. “Shit, I’m sorry. It’s just that… I don’t want to lose you. And I’m trying to do this right, but I don’t know if I am. I wish I could just read your mind, so I’d know what path to take, how to find our way back to each other.”

“You’re assuming a lot,” Blaine said tightly. “And unfortunately my brain isn’t exactly a road map.”

“You really haven’t even thought about it?” Kurt asked, unable to keep the tremble out of his voice.

“Of course I have,” Blaine said sadly. “But you have to hear me when I say this, you have to really listen, okay? I can’t be with you now, Kurt. If we were ever to get back together – if I ever want to be with anyone – I’ve got to be more sure of myself, first. Hopefully I’ll get into Tisch, move to New York, start classes this summer… I want to live in the dorms, make new friends, have a real college experience. That can’t happen if I’m caught up in you again.”

“Caught up in me?” Kurt asked, his throat tight. 

Blaine nodded. “You’re not exactly the easiest person, Kurt. When we were together, I spent so much time thinking about you, worrying about what you would think, trying to please you, trying to anticipate your reaction to everything I did… I lost sight of myself.”

“I’m sorry,” Kurt said, feeling tears build up behind his eyes.

“It’s not all your fault, I messed up too. I let it happen. I couldn’t make you hear me, and I accepted that, because it seemed like it was worth it. Hopefully… well, I’m working on things. And it seems like you are too.”

They sat quietly for a few minutes, split the bill when it came, and then gathered their coats. The sleet had stopped coming down when they went outside, and it almost seemed as if the sun was about to peek through. “Can I walk you back to Wes’ place?” Kurt asked. He wasn’t ready to let Blaine go yet. 

Blaine seemed confused, but agreed anyway. “Sure, if you want.”

It only took them a few minutes to reach Wes’ apartment. “Can I call you, sometimes?” Kurt asked. “Because I know today was hard, but,” Kurt rubbed a hand desperately across his face, “but I think I really needed to hear it. I’ve been thinking so much about how to help you, I forgot how much you help me. And I know I don’t have the right to ask you for anything - ”

“Kurt, no, don’t think that.” Blaine put a tentative hand on Kurt’s arm, and Kurt practically shivered at it, the first time Blaine had reached out for Kurt in so very long. “We’re friends. If I can help you, I’d like that. And… I think we’re helping each other.”

Kurt couldn’t stop his tears, then, standing there on the sidewalk, passers-by weaving around them. He couldn’t speak, couldn’t find words to save his life. He pressed his eyes shut, wishing he could just disappear into the pavement. When he felt Blaine’s strong arms wrap around him and pull him close, he collapsed into him and sobbed, hands clutching at Blaine’s coat and his face pressed into his neck. And with a small part of his mind that never seemed to shut off he appreciated the irony of the situation – at long last, and far too late, his walls seemed to finally be coming down.


	8. Chapter 8

_March, 2015_

Singing his heart out at a karaoke bar in Columbus turned out to be just what Blaine needed to celebrate his birthday. Sam had surprised him with the trip, refusing to give Blaine any hints in advance except that he didn’t need to wear a suit – not that Blaine expected Sam to take him somewhere where he needed a suit, but you never knew with Sam.

Adding to the fun of the evening, Marley and her boyfriend Jonah had met them there, Marley grabbing Blaine into a tight hug the moment he walked in the door of the bar. “Are you surprised?” she asked shyly, pushing her long brown hair out of her face. “We wanted you to be surprised.”

“I am,” Blaine assured her, giving her arm a squeeze. “This place is great,” he remarked, looking around at the rock and roll décor. 

“I think it’s trying to be a Hard Rock Café,” Marley said. “But don’t be fooled, you can sing anything you want.”

“Marley has even convinced them to expand their female singer-songwriter category,” Jonah chimed in. He was tall and skinny, with fluffy blonde hair and a hint of scruff on his chin. 

“So we can sing Marley Rose originals?” Blaine asked, grinning.

“Stop,” Marley chided, bumping her shoulder against Blaine’s. “He means Sara Bareillis, Ingrid Michaelson, people like that.”

“Meghan Trainor?” Blaine asked, getting an idea. “Come on, Marley, let’s go check out the song book.”

Later that night, Blaine and Marley sang “Lips are Moving” to each other, Marley barely making it through without cracking up at Blaine’s ridiculous, over-the-top faces (“I know you’re lyin’ ‘cause you’re lips are moving. Baby, do you think I’m dumb?”). Sam then pulled Blaine up for a reprise of “Heroes” – Blaine kind of loved that Sam wanted to sing this song with him whenever they had a chance. Then the three of them traded off singing a few more songs, happily monopolizing the mic until they were forced to give someone else a turn. 

Jonah confessed that while he liked to play the drums and a little guitar, he wasn’t much of a singer, but Blaine was determined to find them an easy song that he could join in on. They decided to think about it while they took a break, settling into a booth in the back, happily making snarky comments about the other singers while eating too many bowls of chips and salsa. 

A DJ came out after a while and they all got up to dance, Sam slapping Blaine on the ass and insisting that he sing “All About That Bass” when it was time for karaoke again. Marley blushed, but Blaine didn’t mind in the least. He knew Sam was just teasing, and it felt ridiculously good to just enjoy himself without worrying about anything for a change. 

But the night wore on as it always did, and soon Sam was poking him in the arm. He blinked his eyes open, apparently having fallen asleep on Sam’s shoulder. “Hey, no sleeping on your birthday,” Sam joked.

“I’m not sleeping,” Blaine protested.

“If you’re lips are movin’ then you’re lyin’ lyin’ lyin’,” Sam chanted, doing a little wiggle in the seat for emphasis. “Come on, we’ve got a long drive home, unless you want to sleep at Marley’s tonight.”

Blaine sat up and noticed Marley and Jonah going at it on the other side of the booth. He wasn’t sure he had ever seen Marley kiss a boy before, much less have a full-on make out session in public. “Nah, I think they’d probably like their privacy.”

They said their goodbyes, Marley promising to come to Dalton to see a Warblers rehearsal sometime soon, and walked across the parking lot to Sam’s truck. It was bitterly cold for March, but at least Blaine was fully awake by the time they were buckling up. Blaine put on some music, acquiescing to Sam’s request for something “bouncy,” and they headed off towards Lima.

Despite Blaine’s good intentions, he fell asleep again on the drive home, only waking up when Sam pulled into his driveway.

“Sorry, dude, I didn’t mean to tire you out like that,” Sam said, looking worried as Blaine scrubbed at his face.

“What? No, Sam, it’s all good.” Blaine turned towards his friend and smiled at him. “I mean it, Sam, I can’t remember the last time I had this much fun. You did great. Best birthday ever.”

“Really?” Sam’s eyes lit up, and Blaine beamed back.

“Really.” Blaine reached for the car door, but Sam stopped him.

“Um, there’s one more thing.” Sam reached behind his seat and pulled out a package wrapped in silvery paper with a heavy white silk ribbon around it.

“Sam, you didn’t need to get me anything, tonight was more than enough,” Blaine protested.

“It’s not from me.” Sam held the package out to him, and Blaine took it gingerly. “I wasn’t sure when to give it to you. I didn’t know if it would make your night better or worse.”

“Nothing in that package is going to ruin this night, Sam,” Blaine reassured him. “And I’ve got plenty of Ben & Jerry’s in the freezer if necessary.”

Sam relaxed. “Aw man, don’t eat the Chunky Monkey without me!”

“Deal.” Blaine gave Sam a quick hug and then climbed out of the truck, going inside his parents’ house as quietly as he could. He really had had a fantastic time tonight, but his parents might be just a tad annoyed with how late he had stayed out. Sure, he might be an almost-adult, but it wasn’t very polite to wake everyone up. And he knew how much his mom worried about him.

Upstairs in his room, Blaine set the gift on his night table and got ready for bed. He considered waiting until morning, but even as tired as he was, he didn’t think he could fall asleep until he opened it. He carefully unwrapped the present, setting the ribbon aside and opening the paper. Inside was a lovely silk bow tie, light blue with narrow dark gray and white lines running through it. 

There was a letter, too. Blaine took a deep breath and began to read.

_Dear Blaine,_

_Happy birthday. I hope Sam actually gives this to you, and doesn’t toss it in the back of his closet with his dirty socks. I’ll just have to keep my fingers crossed._

_It’s been more than two weeks since you were here in New York. I don’t know if you’re not calling or texting because you were embarassed, or because you’re mad at me for what I asked you. Or maybe you’re just busy. I thought I should give you some space, but if you’ve actually been waiting for me to reach out, then I screwed that up too._

_The truth is that seeing you was wonderful. I don’t need you to put your show face on for me. I love you whether you’re happy or sad._

_After I left you at Wes’s apartment, I actually went back to that new menswear’s store I mentioned to you, and I saw this. I thought it was perfect. Light blue (you know how I feel about light blue) for sun-filled skies, like the way you make me feel when you laugh. And a touch of gray, because that’s just life._

_I hope you’ll accept this, and think of me fondly when you wear it. Or think of me any way you want, just know I love you._

_Kurt_

Blaine set the letter down, got under the covers, and then read it again. He felt badly for not having called or texted Kurt in the past few weeks, but then again, as Kurt admitted, Kurt hadn’t reached out either. Seeing Kurt in New York had shaken him up, especially Kurt’s question about whether he had thought about them getting back together. 

Because of course he had thought about it. After months of steadfastly denying to himself that it could ever be an option again, he had begun to let himself consider the idea. It had probably started when he got the interview at NYU, and he let himself fantasize about a life in New York with Kurt again. 

But what he had said to Kurt was true, if a little harsh. He was afraid to let himself get caught up in the tornado that was being in love with Kurt Hummel. Blaine was feeling so good these days, so in control. Except when it came to Kurt, as evidenced by his total freak out on his way to have lunch with him at Niko’s.

What had come as a surprise to him, however, had been Kurt’s reaction to Blaine’s distress. In the past, Kurt had been too quick to say he understood when Blaine tried to voice his fears, leading Blaine to wonder sometimes if he really did understand, or if he just wanted to placate Blaine or avoid getting into an upsetting conversation. But this time, Kurt really did seem to understand. And from what Kurt said, it sounded like he had been doing some thinking too about some of his own less positive reactions to difficult situations.

And then Kurt himself had broken down on the sidewalk outside Wes’s apartment. Blaine could count on one hand the times he had witnessed Kurt completely lose it, and half of them had to do with Finn’s death. He still wasn’t sure what to think about what had happened. It was rare for Kurt to make himself so vulnerable. If Kurt was learning how to share his emotions with Blaine, wasn’t that a good sign?

Blaine scanned the letter again, looking for the lines that made his heart ache. “I don’t need you to put your show face on for me. I love you whether you’re happy or sad.” Was this really true? Recent experience suggested that it might actually be. Blaine thought back to the look on Kurt’s face when he caught Blaine standing outside at Niko’s, searching for a way to reach out to him without scaring him away for good. Kurt was trying so hard to do the right thing, to meet Blaine on his own terms. As crazy as it seemed, Blaine had never been more certain of Kurt’s love for him.

It gave him hope. Hope that maybe this could work between them, even if they were both a little bit broken. Maybe together they could navigate the gray among the blue.

Blaine knew that what the two of them really needed was to talk. But that wasn’t going to happen now, when he was exhausted from dancing the night away and overwhelmed by emotion. What he could do, though, is let Kurt know that his gift was welcome.

**From Blaine:**  
 **It’s beautiful. Thank you. (And thanks for getting that Phantom song stuck in my head, that’s not playing fair).**

**From Kurt:**  
 **I’m really glad you like it. (**insert evil cackle here**)**

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Song references: “Lips Are Moving” and “All About That Bass” by Meghan Trainor, “Heroes” by David Bowie, and “Think of Me” from Phantom of the Opera (just start hearing it... "think of me, think of me fondly..." - it will be stuck in your head for hours).


	9. Chapter 9

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Blaine knows they need to talk. And he's finally ready.

_April, 2015_

Thursdays were always tough for Blaine. He saw his therapist on Thursday evenings. He couldn't help but anticipate it during the day, and it made him nervous whenever he thought about it. And no matter how well it went, he was always wrung out afterwards. Sam had suggested taking him out for ice cream after his session, but they had tried it once and it was a disaster. 

Usually he wound up spending his Thursday nights just decompressing in front of the television with some popcorn, but tonight there was something else he needed to do. He had spent most of his session talking about Kurt, which wasn't unusual in and of itself - Kurt had certainly been a topic of conversation before. But it was different this time. And when he voiced his concerns to his therapist, she had once again done her job of raising the obvious question: "have you talked to him about it?" 

In the past, he had always replied with a quick "I'm not ready." But this time, as his mouth moved to form the words, it didn't feel right. It felt like a defense he didn’t need to use anymore.

Back at home, he thought about what he wanted to say. He opened up his laptop and drafted an email, back spacing and rewriting until he was reasonably satisfied with it, then quickly pressing send before he chickened out.

_Dear Kurt,_

_I'm sorry I shut you down when you asked me if I ever thought about us getting back together. There have been a lot of things I've been terrified to talk about with you. It's taken me a long time to even let myself think about some of them. Highest on the list is our relationship and what went wrong. I realized, seeing you in New York, that you’re scared too. But you didn’t close up, or push me away. You opened yourself up to me._

_I want to try to do the same. I'm ready to really talk, if you want to. Just let me know when._

_Love, Blaine_

The email had been hard to write, all except the end. Because as weird as it was to sign a note to your ex with "love," Blaine really had no other option.

Blaine closed his laptop and sighed, climbing into bed. Kurt was notoriously bad at checking his emails, and he figured he would be lucky if he got a reply by this time tomorrow night. It was part of the reason Blaine had sent an email instead of a text - at least it gave him a little time to prepare himself.

Blaine curled up on his side, one arm resting under his pillow, and began running through old Warbler choreography on his head. It was a pretty good way to relax. He had been feeling so much better lately but he still had trouble falling asleep, in part due to a recent adjustment to his meds. His doctor had reassured him that he’d get the hang of it again, it was just his body having to relearn how to put himself to sleep instead of relying on the medication he used to take, and so he patiently counted sheep, and step touches, and whatever else seemed likely to help him doze off.

He had apparently succeeded when Kurt’s ring tone woke him. Blaine blinked his eyes open and scrabbled for his phone. 

"Hello?"

"Yes. Yes, I want to talk."

Blaine smiled, eyes still closed. Even half-awake he recognized this Kurt, as eager as a race horse straining at the gate.

"You are way too excited about what is very likely to be a tear-filled, emotionally draining conversation."

"Emotions are good. I can do emotions."

Blaine's smile got wider. "Who are you, and what have you done with Kurt Hummel?"

There was a pause. "He's right here. Just a little different, that's all," Kurt said softly. 

"I know." Blaine bit his lip. “I know you are, Kurt. I see it.” He took a slow breath in and out. "I'm glad you called. Really glad. But to be honest, I wasn't expecting to talk tonight."

"You didn't think I'd check my email, did you? I suppose you can thank Wes."

"What?"

"He lectured me last week because I didn't see the email changing our meeting time, so I've been checking it religiously every night this week. There's no way I'm missing dinner at Mariel's - that place is impossible to get into. But apparently Miri's aunt is a part owner!"

"Kurt, it might be because I'm sort of asleep, but I have no idea what you're talking about."

"Right. Like you didn't get Wes to take me to that Marc Jacobs exhibit, and invite me to go out to dinner with him. He just did it out of the goodness of his heart."

Blaine snuggled deeper into his pillow, loving the sound of Kurt's voice. "Actually, he kind of did."

"No way. Wes all of a sudden decided I needed a social life? Seems unlikely."

"Well, to be fair, it might have been in response to something I said."

"What did you say?"

Blaine pictured Kurt on the sidewalk in front of Wes's apartment, suddenly letting go and dissolving in front of him. "That I thought you could use a friend." He hoped it was okay to say that, that it didn't offend Kurt. But he was worried about him. "No one as awesome as you should be lonely."

There was a pause, and Blaine waited, hoping he hadn't gone too far. He thought that if he were more awake, he probably wouldn't have said anything at all. But it was too late now. 

"Blaine?"

"Hmm?"

"Thank you."

Blaine relaxed. "You're welcome."

"You're pretty much asleep, aren't you?"

"Yeah."

"Let's talk when you’re more awake then, okay?" Blaine nodded, forgetting that Kurt couldn't see him. "Sweet dreams."

"You too, baby," Blaine murmured, the endearment falling from his sleepy lips as it had so many times before. He didn't even notice Kurt's whimper of pleasure in response, as he fell asleep dreaming sweet dreams indeed.

They didn't talk the next night, because that was Kurt’s dinner out with Wes. Kurt was clearly excited about it, texting Blaine for help in choosing an outfit, concerned about finding just the right look. Blaine didn’t think Wes would really notice either way, but he was happy enough to give his two cents as Kurt texted him pictures of his accessory options.

The next day was Saturday, and Blaine knew as soon as he woke up that it wasn't going to be a great day. He felt lethargic and couldn't focus on the arrangement he was supposed to be working on for class the next week. He debated for a while, then shot off a text to Kurt.

**From Blaine:**   
**What's your schedule like tomorrow? Have time to talk?**

If he had been feeling clearer, he probably would have realized that Kurt would read between the lines.

**From Kurt:**   
**Sure, I'm working from 7-2, otherwise no plans. Is everything okay?**

Blaine stood up and poured himself some more decaf coffee, hoping that the memory of the caffeine would at least help him perk up. He sat back down at his kitchen island, shuffling his papers into a neat pile, and then replied.

**From Blaine:**   
**I'm having an off day. Nothing to worry about, it happens sometimes.**

**From Kurt:**   
**Feel free to say no, but I can I call you anyway? Not for anything deep - I just want to say hi. And you wouldn't believe who we saw at dinner last night.**

Blaine couldn't help but smile. 

**From Blaine:**   
**Sure.**

And so Blaine sat there, leaning his head on his hand and nursing his coffee, while Kurt regaled him with the story of his night on the town with Wes. Apparently Wes’ old girlfriend had showed up ("he had a girlfriend before Miri?" "he did, I can't believe it either") with Wes's older sister - who she was now dating - leading to quite a dramatic reveal.

By the time they hung up, making arrangements to talk more the next day, Blaine actually felt a little better. He poked his head outside, and, finding that it was in fact pretty nice out for April, texted Sam to see if he wanted to go for a run. He didn’t have to let his mood ruin his day. Blaine could still talk to his friends, still take care of himself. He was learning how to live with this, and he could do it.

\---

When Kurt got home after his Sunday shift at the diner, he took a long shower, letting the heat of the water and his new citrus body wash clean away the French fry aroma that always clung to him after work. He dried off and got dressed in yoga pants and a hooded sweater that made him think of Blaine – something about the texture had appealed to him, and Blaine never failed to comment on it, running his hands around Kurt’s waist and tangling his fingers in the material when they sat together on the couch, gently tugging at the sleeves or the cord around his neck.

The sweater probably wouldn’t help with their phone conversation, but it made Kurt feel closer to Blaine, even if they were still far away, in more ways than one. Although lately Kurt thought that distance might be closing a little. 

When Blaine had emailed saying that he wanted to talk – really talk – Kurt nearly fell over himself getting to his phone. He had sworn up and down that he wasn’t going to push, that he would let Blaine raise it when he was ready. So much time had gone by that he occasionally wondered if they might never talk about some things at all – if they would just sweep the past under the rug and move on. But he knew that wasn’t Blaine’s way. He would need to process this all eventually. More importantly, he knew it wasn’t what they needed, not if they had a chance of ever getting back together, or even having a real friendship. And there was no way Kurt was giving up on that.

Kurt sliced up an apple, got himself a glass of water, and sat down in front of his computer. He had planned on spending a little time going over a scene for his senior citizen cast at the Lexington Home this afternoon, but he couldn’t concentrate. He found himself looking through old pictures of himself and Blaine, and noticed how few he had of their last few months together in New York. Things had really gone downhill when Rachel and Sam had left, with Santana mostly gone as well. Blaine had tried to keep their Monday night dinners going, but after a few where the stress between the two of them was making Artie visibly uncomfortable, he gave up on the whole effort.

Kurt wanted to forget about what happened next, but he couldn’t. Maybe this call would help. He wasn’t sure what Blaine wanted to talk about, now that he thought about it. He hoped he didn’t want to hash out everything that had been going wrong. Most of it was just so petty, little jabs that obviously stemmed from underlying fears. His stomach hurt just thinking about it.

Finally it was four o’clock. Kurt curled up on the couch, pulled a soft throw over him, and pressed Blaine’s number.

“Hey,” Blaine answered. “You’re right on time.”

“Timeliness is important,” Kurt joked, and then almost face palmed. “Not that you aren’t, I mean, I didn’t mean to say –“

“Relax, Kurt. You didn’t mean anything, I get it.” 

But Kurt couldn’t help but think he had insulted Blaine before they even started talking. “No, I’m sorry. And just to take the elephant head on, I never should have gotten on your case for being a little late to dinner that night.” They both knew what night Kurt was talking about. “It’s not as if you’re always late. We were both really busy with stuff then, there were times when we had to shuffle our schedules around, both of us did. And you were just trying to do something nice for me that night, for us. Checking that wedding venue. So I’m sorry.”

“That was hardly the worst of it.”

“I know. But you wanted to talk, so, I’m talking.” 

Kurt could hear Blaine sucking in a deep breath, and letting it out slowly, before he spoke again. “Do you think we could start over?”

Kurt’s heart pounded in his chest, but he knew that Blaine wasn’t talking about starting their relationship over. “Do you want me to hang up and call again?”

Blaine laughed. “No, that’s okay.” But he didn’t seem to know what to say next.

“So, what did you want to talk about?” What could he say to help this along, Kurt wondered. “Did something in particular make you decide you wanted to talk now?”

“There was something, actually.” 

“Oh? What?”

"I was worried about you," Blaine said softly. 

“About me?” That wasn’t what Kurt was expecting. He bit his tongue, holding back his patented “I’m fine” party line. “You don’t have to worry about me.” Well, that was slightly better.

"Are you still seeing your therapist?"

"What?" Now he was definitely thrown. What did Blaine think was wrong with him? He had thought he had been doing better lately.

"It wasn't a hard question,” Blaine said gently.

It wasn’t. "Actually, I haven’t seen her in the past few weeks,” Kurt admitted. “I, um, used up the sessions I had approval for and I need to get my primary care doctor to approve more. It's been on my to do list for a while." 

Blaine just let that sit there for a moment, and Kurt could imagine the look on his face. “I’ll do it soon, I promise.”

“I see my therapist on Thursdays." Blaine said, as if this explained his train of thought.

"Yeah?” 

"I talked with her about you this past Thursday. I told her I was worried about you, and not surprisingly, she asked me if I had talked to you about it. And I realized that I wanted to. So that’s what prompted my email.”

"Well, I admire your determination to follow her suggestions. But you really don't have to worry."

"Let's just assume for the sake of argument that I'm worried, whether or not I have to be."

Damn his stubbornness. “Fine. Why are you worried?"

Blaine paused, and Kurt held his breath, wondering what was coming. "You seem lonely. Isolated. Not pleased to have alone time, or even bored, but truly lonely. And I think it’s getting to you."

"How can you know that? You're not even here," Kurt said tightly. 

"And that makes you mad, doesn't it."

Kurt sucked in a breath. "No, of course not, it's not your fault,” he said quickly. 

"Kurt." 

Blaine knew him too well, it would be weird if he wasn’t so used to it. "Okay, maybe a little mad. But not at you. At least, mostly not at you," Kurt said quickly, trying to be honest. 

"I'm mad at you too, you know." Blaine said quietly. "For not trying to work out our problems. For throwing me away. For not seeing that I was drowning."

"But I apologized," Kurt said helplessly. "And I didn't know -"

"I know. And I accept your apology, and it's unreasonable of me to have expected you to figure out what I wasn't even aware of. But I'm still a little mad at you, sometimes. And it's okay for you to be a little mad at me."

Kurt had in fact been more than a little mad, even while he knew that he was being irrational. "When I broke up with you, I didn't know you would leave me, leave New York. That’s what I kept thinking, when you disappeared. But that's ridiculous, isn't it?"

"That you thought I'd argue with you? Hang around, keep trying to fix us? It's not ridiculous. Unfair, maybe, but it wouldn't have been out of character for me then."

"I didn't know I could hurt you so much, that it would be the end.” Kurt felt his throat closing up. “I didn’t mean for it to be goodbye.”

"My walls were never as thick as yours. Turns out they had a pretty serious fracture in them, in fact."

"But I didn’t know. And I broke you."

"Is that what you think?"

"Didn't I?"

"Kurt, you are not responsible for my illness. Your actions were completely in the realm of normal, even for us. How I reacted, and the NYADA disaster, that’s not your fault."

Kurt heard his own words from almost two years ago echoing in his head. _I can’t keep you from failing. But I’ll make it safe for you, if you do._ But he hadn’t. Was Blaine saying he was mad about it, or he wasn’t? "Blaine," Kurt's voice was cracking, "I don't understand. What are we talking about? You said you were worried about me, and now... What are you trying to tell me?"

"I'm sorry, I'm making a mess of this, but bear with me. I promise it comes out okay."

Kurt gave a half-hearted laugh. "Really?"

"Really. My theory's been vetted by a real psychologist and everything. The best this side of Columbus."

Kurt took a deep breath. If Blaine was determined to have this conversation, he wasn't going to be the one to stop him, even if he was having trouble seeing where it was going and this floundering around hurt like hell. "All right, I'm ready. Tell me what wisdom you have discovered." 

Blaine cleared his throat, and Kurt felt the mood swing back to something more serious. "I think we're both still holding on to angry feelings towards each other, that aren't rational, but are there anyway. And we're both feeling guilty about the things the other one is angry about. There are clearly still unresolved issues there.” Kurt could almost hear the air quotes around that one. “For me, I'm mad at you for not seeing that I needed help, and you feel guilty about it, even though it wasn't your fault."

"And I'm mad at you for leaving me alone here, and you feel guilty about leaving, even though it's not your fault," Kurt said, finally feeling like he was understanding what Blaine was trying to say.

"Exactly," Blaine agreed.

"But wait - why do you feel guilty for leaving? That's not the same thing at all."

"No?" Kurt could hear Blaine shuffling around. "When your dad was sick, what did you tell me your biggest fear was?"

Kurt felt the blood rush from his head. "Losing him. Being left alone."

"And then when Finn died?" Blaine said softly.

Kurt just shook his head at the phone, unable to speak. 

"You said everyone one that loved you left you. That you had nightmares about being in a strange place, all by yourself, surrounded by people who couldn’t see you." Blaine took a shuddering breath. "And then I did it too. I left you alone in New York."

"But I broke up with you first," Kurt choked out. "I pushed you away."

"Yet you're still a little mad. Go figure.”

"And now you’ve realized I really am lonely, and you’re worried. You feel responsible, even though you shouldn't." Kurt turned this over in his mind for a moment. "So what do we do now? Is this one of those kinds of things where just putting it out there helps? Now we can put it in perspective?"

"I hope so. But I think there's more. We can recognize it in each other. And work on it with our therapists. For example, I've been working on ‘not feeling responsible for making everyone around me happy at the expense of my own well-being.’” Blaine paused. “I may actually have that phrase written down in several places.” He sighed. “And you've obviously been working on things, too."

"What do you mean?" Kurt asked.

"You told me that you felt alone. You admitted it, you talked about it with me. You said that you were trying to let people in, but it wasn't working. Here’s the thing, though -- I think it is working. You might not see it yet, but it is, and that’s why you're hurting even more. You're being more open with people, more vulnerable. You’re trying. And it's painful, and scary, and sometimes they reject you, and that really hurts. But you’re doing it, and it is working."

"How do you know?"

"I can see it, Kurt," Blaine said earnestly. "I can feel it. You've been so much more open with me, you are all the time now. It's..."

"Weird? Too much?"

"Wonderful."

Kurt squeezed his eyes shut, overwhelmed with emotion, just as Blaine had predicted. But it wasn't just love for this man who knew him so well, who could see past his walls into his very heart. It was also relief. Because if he was really learning how to let Blaine in, maybe this time when Blaine made his way past his walls, he'd be able to give Blaine what he deserved when he got there. Maybe he would stay.


	10. Chapter 10

_May, 2015_

Kurt tried not to take it personally that their next loft reunion got cancelled. The six month mark had fallen at a bad time – Tina had a performance, Rachel was helping Blaine with a Warblers retreat, and Artie – well, he never really did figure out what Artie’s excuse was. They all exchanged heartfelt apologies on Facebook (the irony of this did not escape him), and rescheduled it for another six months in the future.

He felt a lot better about his birthday overture to Blaine. After that night, their communications had returned to normal, or at least what had passed for normal over the last few months. Mostly texts, with an occasional phone call. And then “the talk,” which had led to a series of painful but necessary conversations, with both Blaine and his own therapist. Things weren’t perfect yet, but just the fact that they were trying to figure things out made Kurt indescribably happy.

It was a warm evening in early May when he entered the Lexington Home for Retired Actors, copies of a new scene to work on neatly stacked in his bag. He was surprised to find Maggie writing “Cancelled” in black Sharpie over the sign on the bulletin board announcing the room for their rehearsal that night. Their final main stage show for the year was over, but he thought that the group had been enjoying the improv games and scene studies they had been doing since then.

“Maggie? What’s going on?” he asked, a little annoyed that she hadn’t let him know about the change sooner. He could have been home watching the making of Downton Abbey special he had saved on his DVR.

“Sorry, Pillsbury. Something came up,” she said cryptically, turning away deliberately and walking down the hall with a nonchalant wave of her hand. Before Kurt had a chance to go after her he heard a familiar voice behind him.

“Is this where I can find the fabulous Kurt Hummel?”

Kurt felt his heart begin to race as he turned and saw Blaine peeking his head around the corner. “Blaine! Oh my god! What are you doing here?”

Blaine dashed forward and hugged him tightly, then bounced backwards to grin at him. “I’m a finalist at Tisch. I had my audition today!”

“Oh my god! Why didn’t you tell me you were coming?” Blaine was looking dashing in a royal blue blazer, lavender shirt, and the sky blue bowtie Kurt had given him for his birthday, and Kurt could barely catch his breath. 

“I wanted to surprise you,” Blaine said shyly. “I hope that was okay?”

“More than okay,” Kurt assured him quickly, trying not to squeal with excitement. Suddenly the cancellation of tonight’s rehearsal made sense. He would have to thank Maggie later. Possibly with homemade cupcakes.

“So, um, do you have any plans tonight?”

Kurt laughed. “I think you know the answer to that. Well played, by the way.”

Blaine beamed. “I was just so pleased that Maggie remembered me.”

“Remember you? We talk about you all the time,” Kurt babbled, then froze, realizing what he had said. 

But Blaine just grinned more broadly. “Well, since you’re free, would you care to accompany me to the theater?”

Blaine had somehow managed to snag tickets to the new show Neil Patrick Harris was starring in. They sat in awe through the entire event, Kurt’s excitement at seeing one of his idols perform live almost as overwhelming as the fact that during the second act Blaine tentatively slid his hand over to where Kurt’s rested on his knee, twining their fingers gently together.

After the curtain call and a long but worthwhile wait at the stage door to get Neil’s autograph (“that’s what we can call him now, Kurt, because we _met_ him,” Blaine gushed) they headed towards a new restaurant Kurt had heard about. Of course it was packed, so they placed an order for take-out and found a spot outside on the sidewalk to wait.

Blaine was happy, happy like he used to be in high school, unperturbed by the evening’s little hurdles, from the lack of an empty table at the restaurant any time in the next century to the fact that they ran into Madame Tibideaux at the theater, causing Blaine to momentarily pale but then politely answer her questions with praise for the Warblers and excitement about their upcoming performance. Kurt tried to relax into it, but couldn’t help let a niggling thread of doubt enter his mind.

“Can I ask you something?” he asked, as they took their bags of food and headed back to Kurt’s apartment.

“Of course,” Blaine replied, looking curiously at Kurt.

“You seem really good, really happy,” Kurt said.

“I am,” Blaine agreed. “I think I really am.” He looked down at his feet, then back up at Kurt. “Is that your question?”

Kurt took a breath. “Are you happier now, without me, than when we were together?”

Kurt thought it was a testament to how confident Blaine was feeling that he just smiled and laughed at the boldness of his question. “I suppose I could ask you to be more specific,” Blaine began, “because there were certainly times when neither of us were particularly happy, if you remember. But I know what you mean.”

Kurt braced himself. If not being with him was what Blaine needed to be happy, to find himself, then who was he to challenge it?

“I don’t know if it’s a fair comparison. Things have changed so much. But I can tell you why I’m happy today, in this moment.” Blaine’s face was open and earnest, and he turned to take Kurt’s free hand in his.

“First off, I’m still kind of flying from my audition today. And it’s not just that I gave a kick ass performance, which I did.” He smirked a little, but then his face became serious again. “It’s that I couldn’t have done it six months ago. Ever since I got back to Lima I’ve been working on pulling myself up, healing, in a lot of ways. Rebuilding. And the fact that I’m here today, well, I know I got here myself. And it feels fantastic.”

Kurt could see the genuine joy and relief in Blaine’s eyes. “That’s wonderful,” Kurt said, giving Blaine’s hand a squeeze, and not letting himself think too hard about how, for the second time tonight, he happened to be holding hands with Blaine. 

“It really is. I’m actually pretty proud of myself. And if that were it, I’d be plenty happy. But you know what is really the cherry on top of my happiness cake today?”

“What?”

“Being here in this amazing city with you, my amazing friend.”

Kurt could barely think in the wake of this statement, so he just smiled goofily back at Blaine, who laced his arm through Kurt’s as they continued on down the street. 

By the time they finally reached Kurt’s building they were starving. Bringing home take-out had seemed like a good idea at the time, and Kurt had been pleased when Blaine had agreed to come back to his place to eat. Of course, if he had known this morning that Blaine was going to see it he would have done a bit of extra straightening up, but he thought it was in pretty good shape.

They raced up the stairs and just as Kurt turned the corner on his floor, he heard Blaine cry out.

“Fuck!”

Blaine was halfway down the last set of stairs, clutching his ankle and rocking back and forth. 

Kurt scampered back down the stairs, sitting on the step next to him and putting a hand on his shoulder. “Are you okay? What happened?”

Blaine squeezed his eyes together and just curled up around himself for a moment, then sucked in a long breath. “I’m okay. I tripped. I think I must have twisted it… shit, it really hurts.” He was trying to flex his ankle, and from the expression on his face, Kurt figured it wasn’t a fun exercise.

“Why don’t we get you inside and then we can take a look at it?” 

Kurt wrapped his arm around Blaine’s waist, letting him grab on to his shoulder, and helped him hop his way up the remaining stairs. Blaine balanced against the wall while Kurt scrambled to unlock the door, and then guided Blaine over to the couch.

Kurt went back out in the hall to gather their belongings – the bags of take-out looked to have survived – and returned to Blaine. He was sitting on the edge of the futon couch, gingerly trying to take off his oxford shoe.

“Let me help.” Kurt moved Blaine’s hands away, and Blaine hissed as he touched his hands. His palms were scraped, blood seeping out from one particularly nasty spot on his left hand. 

“Shit, I’m sorry.” Kurt sat on the coffee table in front of Blaine and, as gently as he could, set his foot in his lap. He untied the laces of his shoe and eased it off, Blaine pressing his eyes together tightly as he went, his face pale. Once the shoe was off, Kurt rolled down his sock and then ran his fingers over the bones of Blaine’s ankle. “I don’t think it’s broken,” he said tentatively, trying to catch Blaine’s gaze. “Can you move it?”

Blaine gritted his teeth and slowly flexed his ankle up and down. He let out a long breath. “I think it’s okay.”

“I’ll get you some ice and something for your hands.” Kurt grabbed a pillow from the arm of the couch and let Blaine’s foot rest on top of it, then dashed off into his bathroom for his first aid kit, then into the kitchen for a bag of frozen peas.

When he returned to Blaine, he took his scraped up hands in his, and started to dab at his palms with some gauze. 

“Kurt?” He looked up at Blaine. The color had returned to his face, and he looked more concerned than anything else.

“Yeah?”

“Your hands are shaking.” 

Kurt looked down, surprised to see that Blaine was right. 

“Come here.” Blaine tugged at Kurt’s arm until he landed on the couch next to him, and pulled him into a one-armed hug. “It’s okay. I’m okay. It really hurt there for a minute, but I’m fine.”

Kurt leaned against him, closing his eyes and trying to steady his breath. “You changed your cologne.” 

“Mmm. It’s a whole new me.”

Kurt looked up at Blaine, caught the smile around his eyes, and huffed out a laugh. “Clearly you’ve made great strides this year.”

“That’s what everyone tells me.”

Kurt relaxed then, hoping Blaine would let him just sit there for a little bit, listening to his breath go in and out, feeling the solid weight of Blaine’s arm over his shoulders. He did.

After a few minutes, Kurt slowly sat up. “This wasn’t exactly how I planned on showing you my apartment.” He smiled wryly at Blaine.

“And we kind of forgot about the food,” Blaine commented, looking towards the bags of take-out Kurt had tossed haphazardly on to the kitchen counter.

“Well, how about I remedy that?” 

It didn’t take long for Kurt to point out the highlights of his place, even without Blaine leaving his seat on the couch. It was tiny, but it was all Kurt’s, and he loved it. While living alone had its disadvantages, it was heavenly to be able to control every aspect of his living space, from the decor, to what went into each cabinet and shelf, and how long each item in the refrigerator remained there before being eaten or otherwise disposed of. Blaine was currently seated on a small futon couch, which could pull out for guests, although only Burt and Santana had used it. There were two chairs off to one side, and a dark wood coffee table that doubled as a casual dining table, given that there wasn’t enough room in the miniscule kitchen for anything more formal.

The furnishings were taupe with silk sky blue pillows, with hints of tangerine, sage, and the same sky blue showing up in the window dressings of the only two windows in the unit. It wasn’t a color scheme Kurt had ever used before, but when he had moved in his dad had brought him the four throw pillows from Carole as a gift, sensing Kurt’s need for something hopeful, and he had decided to go with it.

After explaining this to Blaine, Kurt got up to rescue their dinner. By the time he had warmed up their meal (fig and gorgonzola chicken, carrot and ginger soup, and a golden beet salad) Blaine was upright again, helping him set the small table with barely a limp.

"Good thing this didn't happen before your audition, I suppose," Kurt said, still not convinced that Blaine should be up and about.

"It's a little sore, but I'm sure it will be fine by tomorrow." Blaine flourished a napkin at Kurt and motioned for him to sit down. "Come on, I'm starving."

The food was delicious, even reheated, and Kurt even let himself eat a whole piece of the crusty bread with herb butter that Blaine slathered on top of it. 

"Kurt, this is amazing. God, I've missed the food here."

Kurt smiled. Personally, he kind of missed Blaine's little belly, but there was no way he was going to comment on it. Blaine was looking really good - he was probably in the best physical shape Kurt had ever seen him in, if the swell of his biceps and the narrow cinch of his waist was indicative of the rest of him. Kurt knew Blaine was exercising regularly for his mental health, but it seemed to be paying off in the physical area as well.

Blaine leaned back against the couch and sighed. "I may never move again." 

Kurt giggled at the expression on his face. "Sorry to say, but unless you brought floo powder with you, you'll have to go downstairs to catch a cab." He glanced at the clock and grimaced when he saw the time. "Wow, I didn't realize it was so late. Isn't Wes going to wonder where you are?"

Blaine barely picked his head up off the couch, just rolled it in Kurt's direction. "Wes is actually out of town. I picked up the key from Miri when I got in yesterday. It was actually kind of spooky staying there by myself last night. I think the ghosts of Warblers past are haunting him. Trying to get him back for all that gavel banging.”

"Well, you're welcome to stay here," Kurt offered. "It's almost one o'clock, and I'd hate for you to have to go back to a haunted apartment all by yourself."

Blaine grinned sleepily. "I was kind of hoping you'd say that." He suddenly tensed, and sat up. "But I don't have to. I'm not really scared of his apartment."

"Don't be silly, I'd love for you to stay. I'll take the couch. I've been wanting to try it out."

Blaine bounced a little on the cushion, testing it out. "It's kind of squishy. Won't it hurt your back?"

"Well, then what kind of host would I be if I let you sleep on it? Come on, I'll get you some pajamas."

Kurt went into his room and pulled out his comfiest sweats and an old Dalton t-shirt while Blaine cleaned up their dinner dishes. "These okay?"

"I wondered what had happened to that shirt," Blaine commented, drying his hands gingerly and then accepting the neatly folded clothes from Kurt. "Glad it was in good hands."

Kurt went into his bedroom to change while Blaine headed off to the tiny bathroom, Kurt assuring him that he could use whatever products he wanted to, including some first aid cream for the scrapes on his palms. He neatened up his desk, and was just trying to decide whether it would seem weird to Blaine that he still had framed pictures of the two of them displayed, when Blaine came into the room. 

Kurt turned, and grinned at the sight of Blaine in the Dalton shirt, pulled tight across his chest and arms. “You really have been working out, haven’t you.”

Blaine blushed. “Maybe the shirt just shrank from so many washings.” He rubbed at the hem with his fingertips. “It’s still nice and soft, though.”

“Since when have I not taken proper care of a fine garment?” Kurt joked. “You look great, by the way.”

“Thanks.” Blaine took in the little room and the carefully made bed with its pewter gray spread and coordinating pillows. “The bed’s still the same.”

Kurt shrugged and set the throw pillows on the floor. “I like the colors.” He slid past Blaine, pausing in the doorway, knowing he needed to say goodnight despite the pull he felt towards Blaine. “Let me know if you need anything, okay?”

“Kurt, wait.” 

“What?”

Blaine sighed, and climbed into the bed, holding the covers open for Kurt. “There’s no need for you to sleep on the couch. Stay here.”

Kurt’s head was shaking even as soon as the words left Blaine’s mouth. “I don’t think I should.”

“Come on. It’s late, and you’ve got to be as tired as I am. We’ll just sleep.”

“But…” All the reasons why this was a terrible idea swam through Kurt’s head, and he struggled to articulate even one of them. “You said you need to be yourself without me.”

Blaine smiled softly at him. “I am myself without you. I promise.”

“You’re sure?”

“I’m sure.”

Feeling almost light headed, Kurt slid into bed, turning off the lamp and then carefully pulling the covers over himself. He could see Blaine’s eyes in the dim light, and his gentle smile.

“I had a great time tonight,” Blaine said quietly. “Thank you.”

Kurt smiled. “Me too. And now we’re pals with Neil Patrick Harris. Our careers are assured.”

“Exactly.” Blaine pulled in a deep breath, and closed his eyes. “Good night, Kurt. Sweet dreams.”

“Sweet dreams.”

Kurt turned over and tried to get comfortable, staying as close to the edge of the bed as possible. But he couldn’t relax, not with Blaine inches away, his body heat radiating warmth on Kurt’s back. The minutes ticked by, and it seemed like Blaine couldn’t sleep either. He would be still for a while, then rearrange himself under the covers, tossing and turning, each time pulling a little more on Kurt’s heart as well as the blankets.

Eventually Kurt peeked an eye open and looked at the clock. Two thirty a.m. They had been in bed for over an hour, and he didn’t think he had slept for more than a few minutes at a time. Gingerly, he turned over, finding Blaine lying on his back, one knee bent. He had his eyes closed, but his lips were moving as he silently mouthed the words to a song, one hand on top of the blanket keeping time. He looked so cute, his hair curly and soft, a light dusting of stubble over his chin. It was all Kurt could do not to thread his fingers through his hair and still his lips with a kiss.

Instead Kurt just closed his eyes, and tried to concentrate on sleepy things. Boring lectures, overly warm classrooms, that feeling you get on Thanksgiving after eating for hours…

Next to him, Blaine reshuffled himself again, and Kurt felt a touch graze his hand as Blaine turned over. He opened his eyes to see Blaine staring at him, immediately apologetic. “I’m sorry, I didn’t mean...”

“Having trouble sleeping?” Kurt asked gently.

Blaine just nodded, his whole face drawn with exhaustion, and Kurt’s resolve broke. 

“Well, for god's sake get your squirmy self over here and let me help you fall asleep." Kurt expected an argument, but instead he got Blaine, who immediately pressed himself up against Kurt, wrapping himself around him as sweetly as ever, head on Kurt's shoulder, arm around his waist, one knee bent and curled over Kurt's thigh. 

“Better?” Kurt asked, shifting slightly as he rested his hand on Blaine’s shoulder, his body so warm under the thin cotton shirt. 

Blaine sighed, and relaxed against Kurt. “Why does this feel so right?” he asked, his voice soft. 

“Maybe it’s your missing puzzle piece theory,” Kurt whispered. He hoped he wasn’t going too far, but it was only the truth. This was where they belonged, wrapped up around each other, safe and loved. 

Miraculously, Blaine seemed to agree, mumbling his assent. He snuggled closer, rubbing his nose against Kurt’s chest. “You smell good, too.”

Kurt could feel his body start to take interest, and a red flag went off in the recesses of his tired brain. He may have come too close to the line already tonight – maybe have high kicked right over it – but this was as far as he was going.

“I’m using a new laundry detergent,” he said lightly, earning a chuckle from Blaine. “Come on, sleep now, okay?”

“Okay,” was the quiet reply.

Kurt moved his hand in small circles on Blaine’s back. Whether it was due to sheer exhaustion or Kurt’s soothing touch, it didn’t take long for Blaine to fall asleep, his weight settling against Kurt and his breathing evening out. Kurt pushed aside a curl where it was tickling his nose, and tried to just stay in the moment. Despite what it seemed, he didn’t think this was a horrendous mistake that would send Blaine running. Instead, he hoped it was a reflection of how much progress they had made. Somehow through all that talking, all that painful airing of hurts and fears, they were comfortable together again. They fit. It was wonderful. 

*****  
The next morning, however, Blaine was tense, his smile fleeting as they weaved around each other in Kurt's small kitchen. 

Kurt knew what the easy choice would be, but he didn’t want to let Blaine go back to Lima looking so uncertain. If they could talk about these things over the phone, certainly they could do it when they were together.

“Hey,” he said softly, when they were both settled at the coffee table with cups of tea and the quick omelet Kurt had thrown together. "I know something’s bothering you. What’s wrong?" 

Blaine just shrugged and looked away.

"Can I try?" Kurt asked, earning a nod from Blaine, his lips tight and his face drawn. "You're worried that last night, how good it felt to be together like that, means you failed. That you aren't looking out for yourself the way you need to. Is that it?" 

Blaine’s eyes widened, and then he sagged back against the sofa with a sigh. “Pretty much.”

"Do you want to know what I think? I think it means we care about each other. Deeply. We are comfortable with each other in a way that is honestly beautiful, and it makes me very grateful for you." 

Blaine’s expression softened. “I’m grateful for you, too.” 

Kurt pressed on, even as he felt his voice tremble. "But what happened last night doesn't mean that you are putting my wishes before yours. It doesn't mean you are coming back to New York for me. It doesn't even mean we’re getting back together, although you know, I hope, how very much I want that for us someday.”

Blaine nodded. He seemed to be considering Kurt’s words carefully. Straightening his shoulders, he caught Kurt’s eye directly. "You know I applied to schools outside of New York?"

Kurt's chest tightened. "I thought you might. It makes sense. How’d it go?"

Blaine took a deep breath and let it out slowly. "I got into Oberlin, and Berklee College of Music in Boston. I’m wait listed at the conservatory program at Cincinnati." He twisted his hands in his lap, then met Kurt’s gaze again, his expression serious. "But Tisch is my first choice."

"Why? Won't being here just bring back a lot of bad memories?" The words fell out of Kurt’s mouth before he could help it.

Blaine shook his head. “I love New York. It’s where I want to live. Being in Lima this year just confirmed it. And yeah, maybe there will be some difficult things about being here again, but it would be worth it to be back here.” He shyly reached out to Kurt, palm face up, and Kurt took his hand in his, a smile spreading across his face. “And there were an awful lot of good memories, too. They don’t go away, just because things got rough. And you know,” Blaine took a deep breath in, and gave Kurt’s hand a squeeze, “we can always make more.”


	11. Chapter 11

_June, 2015 – Part I_

**From Kurt:**  
 **I’ve heard that when you let a show choir loose in an unfamiliar city, they can get into a lot of trouble.**

Blaine smiled at the text from Kurt. He didn’t know what he was getting at, but Kurt in this mood always brightened his day. It had been over a week since Blaine’s trip to New York and his whirlwind evening with Kurt, which had included one of Blaine’s happiest moments in recent history. And if it was weird that spending a night just sleeping with Kurt made him that happy, well, too bad. His life didn’t always make sense these days, but it was working for him, and that was what mattered.

**From Blaine:**  
 **What are you implying about my Warblers? They are perfect gentlemen.**

**From Kurt:**  
 **Didn’t you say Cameron smuggled whiskey into your retreat last month? And Vivek got lost during your trip to Columbus?**

Blaine grinned. Apparently Kurt had been paying attention when Blaine rambled on about the trouble his boys got into. 

**From Blaine:**  
 **He just made an unplanned detour. And then had to stop for sustenance. You wouldn’t want him to starve, right?**

**From Kurt:**  
 **I’m just saying, you should make sure you have enough chaperones. And parents don’t count. You need people who understand the minds of teenage boys.**

Blaine paused, wondering if Kurt was saying what he seemed to be saying. He held his breath as he typed out his response.

**From Blaine:**  
 **Are you volunteering?**

**From Kurt:**  
 **I am, in fact. They do say it’s always sunny in Philadelphia.**

Blaine practically bounced up and down in his seat, not caring what the other teachers in the Dalton faculty room might be thinking. Kurt was coming with them to Nationals, and it was going to be awesome.

****

Over the next few weeks Blaine’s excitement about Kurt being in Philadelphia with him faded to the background, as he focused on getting the Warblers ready to perform, and organizing each moment of their trip down to the last detail. His schedule only got more frantic as the day of the competition grew closer. Blaine blew off his workout sessions with Sam, and would have forgotten entirely about meeting his therapist if his mom hadn’t shown up at Dalton to drive him across town for his appointment, handing him a turkey sandwich to eat on the way since apparently he forgot about dinner, too.

By the time they finally reached Philadelphia, Blaine was running on fumes. As he was checking the group in to the hotel where the competition was to take place, two of the boys careened into him, and he almost fell over. “Sorry, Mr. Anderson,” one of them spouted automatically, and he shook his head. They were all so ridiculously excited; Blaine just had to find a way to make sure they channeled it all into their performance.

Out of the corner of his eye, he saw the culprit slide to a sudden stop, and several other Warblers come to attention. A head of perfectly coiffed hair turned his way, and Blaine smiled. Kurt.

Check-in finally completed, Blaine carefully set the folder of information and envelope full of key cards into his bag, and weaved through the crowd to find his kids. Much to his surprise, there were no Warblers in sight – just Kurt, whose eyes lit up as Blaine came towards him.

“Well, Mr. Anderson, how does it feel to be here at Nationals with the region’s most handsome and talented show choir?”

Blaine beamed and pulled Kurt into a hug. “So awesome. And even better, now that you’re here.” Blaine let Kurt go and took in the mischievous look on his face. Kurt had barely been here for fifteen minutes, but he was already up to something. “Speaking of show choirs, where did all the boys go?”

“They seemed to have an excess of energy after their flight this morning. I know you had extra time built in to the schedule to allow for travel problems, but you all got here so quickly, there was nothing planned for the next two hours. So I tasked the parent chaperones with taking them for a walk to get a quick look at this area of the city – it’s very historic, you know. Betsy Ross’s house is practically right around the corner.”

“I know,” Blaine said, smiling. “But how will they know where to go?”

“Blaine,” Kurt said, shaking his head. “I gave each group leader a map, with four highlighted destinations. A council member is in each group, and they have the trivia questions for each location. The entire journey must be completed in no more than two hours, or points will be deducted. We’ll tally the answers up when we meet for lunch.”

“I suppose you figured lunch out, too?”

“No, that’s Dean Ellery’s job. He’s going to get traditional Philly cheesesteaks and salads sent up to our practice room at 1:00, along with plenty of water. He’ll also make sure the piano is there, the costumes are hung up, and the luggage is delivered to each assigned room. I gave him a checklist. Your rehearsal will start on time at 2:00 as planned, no worries.”

Blaine grinned. “You are a rockstar, do you know that?”

“So I’ve been told.” Kurt preened as he took Blaine’s arm and led him away from the registration desk.

“I take it we’re not going on the trivia hunt?” Blaine asked as they paused by the bank of elevators.

“Nope.” 

“What is on our schedule, then?”

“Sleep.”

Blaine laughed. “No, really.”

Kurt just tilted his head at him. “Tell me you’ve been getting enough sleep this week.”

There really wasn’t any way to answer that question honestly.

“Tell me you’re not exhausted – that you wouldn’t kill for a nap.”

Kurt was right, of course. The thought of crawling into bed and sinking his head into a pillow actually sounded better than winning Nationals at this point. “Do I really have time?” Blaine asked hopefully.

“Come on. We’ll go up to the room, look over the schedule, and you’ll see. I promise you, it will be worth it.”

Fifteen minutes later, after they had compared the detailed notes on Blaine’s iPad with Kurt’s handwritten plans, Blaine was convinced. He stripped down to his tank top and boxers and slid under the covers with a sigh. Kurt pulled the curtains across the window to darken the room, set the alarm for an hour, and then hovered for a moment, suddenly looking uncertain.

“Kurt?”

“I was going to go down to the practice room and make sure Dean Ellery had things under control. But….”

“The bed looks comfortable, doesn’t it?” Blaine said, patting the pillow next to his head. “Mmm. Soft.”

“I swear this wasn’t in my plan,” Kurt said softly. 

“Come on,” Blaine said, sliding over to make room for Kurt in the queen sized bed. “We’ve already established that we sleep better together,” he said boldly. “Isn’t that why we’re sharing a room?”

Kurt blushed. “I thought you told the Dean it was so that having me come along didn’t affect the trip’s housing budget?”

“Tomato, tomahto,” Blaine said, smiling. Kurt was so cute when he was flustered. It didn’t happen very often. Blaine let his eyes slip closed as Kurt quickly took off his shirt, vest and pants, and he sighed happily as Kurt climbed into bed beside him. “There better not be bed checks,” Blaine muttered as he snuggled up against Kurt, burying his face in his neck.

“There will be later, but we’ll be the ones doing them. We’re the adults, remember?”

Blaine laughed softly, loving the feeling of Kurt’s chest rising and falling under his arm. “Since when do adults take naps?”

“Ah, grasshopper, naps are every adult’s secret to success. Now stop talking, and go to sleep.”

 

***

When the alarm went off, Blaine could hear Kurt moving around the room, and then the bed shifted as Kurt sat down next to him. Blaine felt disoriented, and just lay there quietly, enjoying the feeling of Kurt’s hand on his shoulder while his mind sorted out what was going on, a flutter of nerves running through him as he thought about the boys’ upcoming performance. When he finally blinked his eyes open, Kurt smiled at him and handed him a cup of tea.

“Hey there, sleeping beauty. Have a nice nap?”

Blaine blushed and sat up, taking the mug from Kurt gratefully. “The best.”

“I’ll go down to the practice room and keep everyone on track,” Kurt suggested. “You can meet us there when you’re ready.”

“Thanks.”

Kurt got up, swiftly leaned in and pressed a quick kiss to Blaine’s cheek, and left the room. Blaine grinned, warmed inside by more than the cup of tea. As he stood up and stretched his arms up over his head, he caught a glimpse of himself in the hotel mirror, and marveled at the parallels between today and a long-ago moment in a hotel with Kurt, when their break-up had seemed so possibly permanent, Kurt was dating someone else, and Blaine was still struggling with guilt. The most prominent difference between that Valentine’s Day craziness and today, however, was how Kurt had seemed so unknowable then. Despite Blaine’s herculean efforts to decipher Kurt’s every move at the time, he was never quite sure of where they stood. 

In contrast, Kurt was now opening his heart up to him, holding it out for him to see, to love in return. The care Kurt was showing him today and the thought he had put into how to make this trip run more smoothly were evidence of his love and commitment to Blaine. It was as clear as the light in his eyes. 

By the time Blaine joined the group in the practice room, the boys had mostly finished their lunch and Kurt was going over the answers to the trivia questions. After a brief spat over whether it was permissible to have used the internet to find answers to the questions (with every single Warbler declaring vehemently that of course it was not), a winning group was determined. Blaine scarfed down a cheesesteak and two glasses of juice, then assembled the Warblers around the piano for some warm-up vocal exercises as the rest of the chaperones cleaned up from lunch.

As they moved into a run-through of their first number, Blaine relaxed, feeling that familiar focus come over him. The basses were losing pitch on a downward scale, so he had them adjust a bit, sing against the leads alone, and then take it a few more times. There was still something off when they all came together, so Blaine had them break into quartets and do some tuning exercises. Then he had them run through their entrances, only letting them return to full strength when he was sure each member of the group was coming in on time, instead of holding back until their neighbor confirmed the timing of a phrase.

When Blaine was satisfied with the uptune they began the ballad, their excitement causing them to rush through it and lose the emotional impact he was sure they could bring to it. Blaine could tell from the look on the lead singer’s face that he knew it wasn’t working right, but he didn’t know how to fix it. Blaine went back to the piano and had the group sing an entirely different number from their repertoire, one with a similar message but a piece that he knew Michael loved to sing, and could pretty much nail in his sleep. Once his lead singer lost that look of panic, they returned to the competition ballad, and Blaine’s strategy had worked - not only had they relaxed enough to avoid rushing, but now Michael connected with the song and their small audience, too, who rose to their feet and clapped enthusiastically as he reached the final note.

Blaine gave everyone a ten minute break to hydrate. He checked his notes carefully, wanting to make sure he covered everything he needed to during this session. Even though the boys had been rehearsing these songs for weeks, they always needed to be reminded about some of the problem areas that could crop up, and ways in which to stay in the moment and emotionally connected with the piece. As he got to the bottom of his list, he felt Kurt’s hand on his back and he smiled, turning to face him.

Kurt’s eyes were wide and his face open, and he seemed to be struggling with what to say.

“Do we sound okay?” Blaine was suddenly concerned.

“Okay? Blaine, they sound amazing,” Kurt stuttered out. 

“Well, these guys work really hard,” Blaine said.

“They always worked hard,” Kurt said, shaking his head. “The difference is you. You’re a choral genius!”

“I am not,” Blaine protested.

“You are. You hear things in their voices that dogs couldn’t hear. Every adjustment you made – by the time you were done with them, you could hear the chords ringing on every note. You’ve brought them to a whole new level.”

Blaine could feel his face warming, and he had to look away. He knew that the Warblers were good this year – they wouldn’t have won Regionals otherwise. But to receive feedback like this from Kurt – who was one of the most musically talented people Blaine had ever met, even compared to the divas at NYADA – well, it was high praise indeed.

“Thank you,” he said softly, meeting Kurt’s eyes, which were flashing with excitement. For him.

“You are quite welcome.” Kurt gave his arm a squeeze and then whistled at the group, corralling the boys back into the practice area, and giving Blaine a moment to catch his breath before continuing the rehearsal. 

It was a long afternoon on top of an already long day, and Blaine made sure that the boys didn’t overdo it, including exercises, bonding games, and snacks to break up the practice. By six o’clock he knew that they were as ready as they could be, and he let them divide up into their groups again to go out to dinner, each accompanied by a pair of parent chaperones. The Dean looked lost until Kurt suggested he might like to attend a meeting on fundraising for music programs, and then he scampered off merrily, leaving Kurt and Blaine alone in the room. 

Blaine started to straighten up, gathering half empty water bottles and power bar wrappers, when Kurt approached him.

“No way, this isn’t your job,” Kurt said, smiling at him. “You need something to eat or you’ll never make it through the rest of the night.”

They grabbed a quick meal in the hotel’s casual restaurant, but Blaine couldn’t relax, surrounded by show choir kids and coaches. The adrenaline was running high, and it made him jittery. He had barely finished eating when Kurt pushed back from the table, crooking his arm for Blaine to take. “How about a quick walk around the block?”

It was good to get outside, and Blaine breathed deeply, enjoying the early summer air. He knew Philadelphia would be less appealing in the heat of July, much like New York City, but tonight was lovely and warm, perfect for strolling. Kurt led him along the cobblestone path he had sent the kids on earlier, chatting easily about the historic landmarks – Independence Hall, where the debates leading up to the Declaration of Independence took place, and then later, where the U.S. Constitution was signed; the building which housed the Liberty Bell; the home where Thomas Jefferson had crafted that famous language; and of course, the famed house where Betsy Ross lived. Blaine listened with only half his attention, knowing that was the point, of course – he wasn’t going to be quizzed on this later, he just needed a few minutes to ground himself before going back into the fray.

Next on the schedule was the obligatory coach’s meeting. They parted ways, Kurt assuring Blaine he would meet the kids at the practice room as planned, and go over all the rules and expectations for the evening, while Blaine found himself a seat near the back of the large hall where the meeting was being held. He sat his messenger bag by his feet and placed his hands on his thighs, focusing on his breathing and trying not to wonder how many years of experience all the other coaches had in comparison to his own.

The meeting dragged on forever, and by the time Blaine got back to the practice room, it was deserted. He grinned as he saw the neat stacks of music folders and full water bottles ready and waiting for the next morning, with not a piece of litter in sight. Knowing Kurt, he had probably made the kids clean up, then gone back over the room with a fine tooth comb when they were through.

Blaine sat down at the piano and let his mind and fingers wander, falling into the music and letting it soothe him as it so often did. He had just finished a jazzy medley of Louis Armstrong favorites when he heard his phone buzz with a text. It was Kurt, checking in. Blaine realized with a start that it was almost eleven o’clock. _I’m good. In the practice room, lost track of time._

_Understood. Enjoy. I’m going to sleep soon, but poke me and let me know when you get in._

Blaine smiled. Kurt knew he needed some time to himself. The surprising thing was that now Blaine realized it, too.

Blaine let himself play through another few pieces – he ran through some Mozart, but ended up with Billy Joel – and then headed back to the room. It was dark when he entered, but Kurt had left the bathroom light on and the door propped open so Blaine could see enough to get ready for bed. Kurt was curled up on his side, facing away from Blaine, in the bed they had napped in this morning, the other bed still made up and untouched.

Blaine showered quickly and toweled his hair dry, then pulled on the striped drawstring pants and t-shirt he had brought to sleep in. He glanced quickly at the empty bed, and then shook his head at himself. If he thought there was even a chance he was getting into that empty bed instead of sleeping next to Kurt, he really was delusional.

Blaine slid into bed behind Kurt, putting a hand gently on his pajama-clad shoulder. “Hey,” he said quietly. “I’m here.”

Kurt reached for Blaine’s hand and pulled his arm across his stomach. “Can I be little spoon?” he asked softly, his voice thick with sleep.

“Of course.” Blaine shuffled closer to Kurt, tucking his head over Kurt’s shoulder, and holding him firmly around the waist, his knees pressed up behind Kurt’s thighs. 

He didn’t know what was going to happen tomorrow. The Warblers were as ready as they could be, but the competition was stiff, and even a resoundingly charming and note perfect all-male a capella group still didn’t necessarily have the star power that a co-ed group could provide. But no matter how it all turned out, he was pretty damn proud of how far the Warblers had come. And of himself, too.

Then there was Kurt. Blaine closed his eyes contentedly as Kurt found his hand and twined his fingers through Blaine’s, nestling their hands up under his chin. He could hardly remember the last time they had slept like this. Due to a combination of personality and, frankly, height difference, they usually slept either with Kurt as big spoon, or on his back with Blaine tucked up next to him. Once or twice in high school, and then a few times in the city after Kurt had been bashed, Kurt had wanted the comfort of Blaine surrounding him in sleep. Now Kurt was putting himself out there, going out on a wobbly limb to reach Blaine and help him keep steady. As effortless as his actions had seemed today, Blaine knew how hard Kurt was actually working behind his graceful façade. He was entitled to some reassurance, too.

“Thank you for today,” Blaine whispered softly, his breath rustling the hair behind Kurt’s ear. “You knew just what to do to help. It was perfect.”

He could feel Kurt’s smile as much as see it, as Kurt snuggled closer back against him. “I’m glad. You deserve it.”

“Sweet dreams, Kurt.” Blaine pressed a soft kiss to Kurt’s neck, earning a happy hum from him in return.

“Sweet dreams.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> In the next chapter - the Warblers perform at Nationals!


	12. Chapter 12

_June, 2015 – Part II_

The morning of the competition finally arrived. It started off well enough, Blaine leading the Warblers through a series of exercises designed to get them in the right state of mind for their performance, then taking them through each song just enough to reiterate the emotional pulse points and focus them on their goals. Then the boys dispersed to change into their costumes, and Blaine began to get really, truly nervous.

As he paced around the practice room, frantically searching his mind to see if there was anything else he needed to remind the group about before they went on stage, he felt Kurt come up behind him and put his hands on his shoulders.

“Hey there,” Kurt said softly. “You okay?”

Blaine turned to look at him. Kurt looked particularly lovely today. His chestnut hair was flipped high over his forehead, his suit tailored to perfection, a silver brooch of a bird in flight pinned to his lapel.

“Yeah,” Blaine breathed out, fairly certain that trying to say anything else would be pointless.

“Come here,” Kurt said, taking Blaine’s hand and leading him over to the piano bench. He sat next to him and pulled something out of his bag. “These are for you.”

Blaine took the small box and opened it. Inside was a set of silver cufflinks. “They’re just like your pin,” Blaine said, holding up the little birds to the larger one on Kurt’s chest.

“Warblers for my favorite Warbler,” Kurt said. He took Blaine’s trembling hands in his, and then proceeded to undo the simple black studs Blaine had on his cuffs and replace them with the new ones. “There. All set.” Kurt took smoothed his thumbs over Blaine’s knuckles and squeezed his hands. “I’d wish you luck, but you don’t need it. The Warblers are going to kill it.”

Blaine smiled weakly, and took in a deep, shuddering breath. “I’m so nervous. What if something goes wrong? Everyone’s counting on me…”

“Blaine Devon Anderson, you are already the most successful coach the Warblers have ever had, and you know it’s true. Everyone counts on you for good reason – you are amazingly talented, and you have helped these kids be the very best they ever thought they could be, and then some. You brought them to Nationals for the first time in what, fifteen years?” Kurt pulled him in to a hug, and Blaine clung tightly to him, willing himself to calm down. “Just keep breathing, okay? You’re going to be all right.”

Blaine nodded as they moved apart, the kids coming back into the room, chattering noisily and high on excitement. He and Kurt lined them up and checked over their costumes. Blaine had decided against the traditional blue and red blazers, going for a less stuffy approach that the boys loved – slim black pants, black pinstripe vests, bright blue shirts and silvery gray ties. Not only did they look fantastic, but getting rid of the suit jackets really improved their freedom of movement, letting their rhythm really shine through.

Blaine paused as he got to Michael, searching the boy’s eyes for any sign of the panic that had surfaced yesterday. But Michael just grinned and bounced a little on his toes. “I’ve got this, Mr. Anderson,” he said confidently. “Don’t worry.”

Soon it was time for the team to line up in the wings, and Blaine rushed out to take his seat, Kurt close behind him. He didn’t realize how tightly he had clutched his hands together in his lap until Kurt covered them with one of his own, and he let go to take Kurt’s hand in his. 

Kurt bumped his shoulder against Blaine’s and leaned over to whisper in his ear. “I have it from a good source that no one actually ever died of stage fright. There’s nothing else you can do for them now. Just sit back and enjoy the ride.”

The lights came up on the Warblers and they launched into Taylor Swift’s “Shake It Off,” weaving complex harmonies into the otherwise lighthearted and cheerful uptune. Next was the Beatles’ “Magical Mystery Tour,” complete with choreography that ran the gamut from a close knit choir configuration to a simulation of a tour bus, Cameron in the driver’s seat and various boys lined up behind him, looking out the windows. Finally they finished with their ballad, Michael belting out Hozier’s “Take Me To Church” in an emotional performance that left him drained and panting as he truly left it all on the stage, the crowd rising to their feet with a roar of applause and cheers.

Blaine heard himself cheering along in joy and relief, Dean Ellery hooting at him and slapping him on the back from his seat behind him. Kurt latched on to him in a tight hug, his arms wrapping around his waist and lifting him off the ground. “Oh my god, Blaine, they nailed it! They were amazing! Congratulations!”

The afternoon went by in a blur. After meeting his team backstage and getting them all something to eat, they filed back into the auditorium to watch the remaining groups perform. As fantastic as the Warblers were, Blaine didn’t think they had a chance at the win – there were just too many ridiculously talented and polished show choir machines out there. While neither Vocal Adrenaline nor Throat Explosion were present, there was a group from a high school in Texas that rocked so hard on their uptune that Blaine’s teeth shook, then made the audience weep with their ballad, and sent them out on an anthem of hope and joy. Another team seemed to be channeling Pentatonix, with a bass singer that wowed the crowd with his range and full sound, and chirping harmonies that somehow incorporated every instrument in the orchestra despite being an a capella group. Several other groups had taken on the VA mantle, emphasizing dance and gymnastic proficiency, along with chorus members that looked like they modeled for Vogue in their spare time, assuming they had any.

Finally it was time for the rankings to be announced. Everyone pulled out their phones, having heard that in addition to the list being posted in the lobby and on a giant overhead screen in the auditorium, it would go up on the competition website as well. The Warblers huddled together, Blaine squished in between several of the boys, with Kurt standing behind him, a warm hand on his shoulder and his gentle voice in his ear. “No matter what happens, you already won,” he said softly, as the crowd started a count-down.

Screams surrounded them as the list went up. Blaine quickly scanned the names on the list, his heart beating hard against his chest as he found the Warblers. Fifth place. They were one of the top five high school show choirs in the entire country. He couldn’t believe it. He heard Kurt squeal behind him, equally elated at the Warbler’s success.

The boys were shouting and jumping in circles, and Blaine made his way around the group, stopping to hug each one of them or give their shoulder a squeeze. Winning Regionals at all had been a surprise, and now getting this far? It was more than he had ever hoped for. Blaine couldn’t have been more proud of these kids.

While the top three choirs had to assemble onstage for the final reveal of which choir had placed first, second, and third, the Warblers were free to go. They had made arrangements in advance to go to a local restaurant for a celebratory party (as far as Blaine was concerned, they were going to celebrate no matter where they placed) and they all made their way through the crowded lobby to the taxi stand outside, Kurt quickly making sure that each group of kids was together with an actual adult chaperone, and handing out little cards with the address of the restaurant, just in case someone hadn’t received the morning’s email with the schedule and relevant details for the day. 

Kurt jumped into one of the first cabs with several of the boys so that he could make sure everything was set for their arrival. By the time Blaine pulled up the rear, after locating Vivek in the lobby bathroom fixing his hair (not that he didn’t sympathize, but now was not the time) and getting him into a cab with the Dean and a stray parent who hadn’t realized they were leaving the hotel for dinner, he was starving.

Luckily the restaurant was ready for them, with food already filling the tables by the time Blaine arrived. Marrakesh was a well known spot just off Philadelphia’s South Street, featuring Moroccan food served on low tables, with dim lighting and incense adding to the festive atmosphere. Blaine blinked as his eyes adjusted to the light, and then Kurt was next to him, taking his arm and leading him towards a table in the back. Guests were seated on pillows on the floor, and Kurt ushered him into a spot at a round table, in between the only freshman Warbler, whose parents who were beaming with pride at their son’s accomplishment, and Kurt. Blaine happily sampled various salads with eggplant and chickpeas, and a surprisingly delicious chicken pie with almonds and filo dough. The boys and their parents stopped by his table in a steady stream, eager to squeal over their success and analyze the fine points of the other teams’ performances. 

Blaine was struggling to keep his eyes open as the meal progressed, and the Dean launched into a lengthy speech in which he recounted, in great detail, the history of the Warblers over the course of more than fifty years. At one point the Dean paused to take a breath and Kurt abruptly stood up, clapping cheerfully until everyone else joined in, effectively putting an end to the Dean’s prattling. 

But when the clapping died down, Kurt remained standing. “As a former Warbler, I just want to take a moment to say how proud I am of what you all have accomplished. You are a tremendously talented group of young men, and it is clear that you have worked very hard to get to this point.” Kurt looked around at the students, smiling at each of them, and then went on. “And you have the great good fortune to be coached by Mr. Anderson, who is not only one of the most musically gifted people I have ever met, but the most loyal and genuine friend you could ever hope to find.” Kurt’s eyes met his, and Blaine felt his stomach flip. “Congratulations to you all on being recognized as one of the top five show choirs in the nation. You deserve it.”

Everyone clapped again as Kurt sat down, and Blaine found his hand under the table. “Thank you,” he whispered softly, his throat tight. 

“Someone had to make him stop,” Kurt whispered back, a wry smile on his face.

“You know that’s not what I mean.”

“I know.” Kurt squeezed his hand, and then looked up as the waiter approached them with a tray of baklava. “Oooh, dessert!”

It was all Blaine could do not to fall asleep over his cup of mint tea. He didn’t even notice when Kurt slipped away from the table until he was back, holding his hand out to Blaine to pull him up out of his seat.

“Kurt?” 

“Michael’s mom is going to make sure that everyone gets back to the hotel. She’s got a list, and my cell number. Dean Ellery will do bed checks at eleven. We are officially off duty. Time to go.”

Blaine sighed gratefully. He let Kurt steer him out of the crowded restaurant, stopping here and there to say goodnight to his team, and then flopped into the waiting cab. “Wake me up when we get there,” he said jokingly as he sat back and closed his eyes. He dozed as he listened to Kurt make small talk with the cab driver, and then groggily opened his eyes and followed Kurt into the hotel.

By the time they had found their room, however, a prickling anxiety had replaced Blaine’s contented stupor. Kurt didn’t seem to notice, slipping into the bathroom to change his clothes, and then suggesting Blaine do the same. Blaine grabbed his things and went into the bathroom, forcing himself to shower and pull on his sleep pants and t-shirt. He was sitting on the toilet seat, a towel in his hands for his dripping hair, when the tears started to come. 

What was wrong with him? He had brought the Warblers to an unheard of victory, his students were ecstatic, and nothing had gone wrong. Kurt was out there waiting for him, beautiful and loving, everything he had ever wanted. And he was stuck in here, paralyzed.

Blaine frantically scrubbed at his face and tried to catch his breath, but he couldn’t do it. He didn’t know what he had thought would happen, why this moment was going to be any different. He was still a mess.

He sat there with his head in his hands, not realizing how much time had gone by until Kurt knocked on the door.

“Blaine? You okay?”

“Yeah,” he choked out. He knew Kurt wasn’t going to let it rest there, however, and sure enough, a few minutes later he knocked again.

“Can I come in?”

“I’m fine, Kurt, I’m…” His throat closed up.

“Seriously, Blaine, I’m worried now.”

Blaine pushed himself to his feet, splashed some water on his face, and shook his head. He avoided even glancing in the mirror – he was clearly not looking his best, and there was no need to remind himself.

“I’m fine,” he said, opening the door and finding himself face to face with Kurt.

“What’s wrong?”

Blaine just shook his head and squeezed past him, sitting down on the edge of the unmade bed and tangling his hands in the blankets. He tried to think of something useful to say, but his brain wouldn’t cooperate. “I’m sorry.”

Kurt gingerly sat down next to him. “Sorry? For what?”

Blaine buried his face in his hands and took a deep breath. “This isn’t how I wanted tonight to go. You shouldn’t have to keep tucking me into bed like a child. I wanted it to be more, tonight. You’re so beautiful, Kurt, so graceful and sexy and just perfect. I wanted us to…” He broke off, his throat burning with the effort to talk and not just burst into tears again. “I’m sorry I can’t be…” _Normal,_ he thought to himself. Why can’t I just be normal?

“Blaine?” Kurt sounded almost offended. “Are you honestly worried that I am going to be upset with you if you don’t put out?”

Blaine huffed out something between a sob and a laugh. “It sounds ridiculous when you say it that way. But I know it’s what you want. And I want it too, I just can’t seem to…” he trailed off, wishing he could just disappear into the floor. Surely the room below them would be just as nice.

“Blaine, look at me,” Kurt said gently.

He complied, Kurt’s eyes locking on to his, his face open and soft. “Of course I’d like to be intimate with you again, someday, when we’re both ready, if that’s what we want. I love you, and you are graceful and sexy and imperfectly perfect too. Not to mention insanely talented, movie star handsome and effortlessly charming. But I’m not in any rush. Frankly, until right now I wasn’t sure you even wanted me that way any more, and the part of me that is still an awkward teenage boy is cheering wildly inside. I think he’s doing that shimmy dance, too.”

Blaine ducked his head, and Kurt leaned down to catch his eye. 

“I’m glad to know how you feel. But I didn’t expect anything this weekend. I don’t have a timeline. I just love you.”

Blaine squeezed his eyes shut; the look on Kurt’s face was too much to take. “I’m just so disappointed in myself. I asked my therapist about it, but she said that the meds I’m on, with this dose, shouldn’t make any difference. I wasn’t surprised, really, but I was hoping there was something I could do to fix it. I’m just so…”

“Just what?”

He took a deep breath, knowing he had to come out and say it. “Scared.” There it was. Despite all the talking they had done, despite the fact that he knew Kurt loved him still, Blaine was terrified. 

Blaine could feel Kurt go still next to him, and his heart clenched. He opened his eyes and reached for Kurt’s hand, holding it tight between both of his own. “I’m not scared of you,” he said softly. “I’m scared of what will happen to me. Look at me – I’ve got the emotional capacity of a toddler. I’ve been constantly on the edge of tears for the past two days. I’m barely holding it together. How can I have a real relationship with you – with anyone? What good am I to you? What happens if I just fall apart?”

His breath was coming faster now, and he willed himself to calm down. Although it was a prime example of what he was trying to say. God, he was a mess.

Blaine could feel Kurt shift next to him, his knee coming up on the bed so Kurt was facing him properly. “Can I ask you something?” Kurt turned Blaine’s hand over in his, rubbing his thumb over the thin skin on Blaine’s wrist.

“Um, sure?”

“Is it possible that the way you are feeling tonight is at least in part because you are thoroughly exhausted? You’ve been running yourself ragged getting the Warblers ready for competition. You haven’t been eating right, haven’t been sleeping enough… you’re completely wiped out, right?”

“Yeah.” There was no point in arguing that. He felt like he hadn’t slept in weeks.

“And the other times we’ve gotten to see each other over the past few months have all been pretty stressful and emotional – after your NYADA audition, and your interview?”

Blaine nodded. It was true. Could it really be that simple?

“I’ve got an idea,” Kurt said, tentatively raising his hand to Blaine’s face and pushing a wayward curl out of his eyes. “The semester is over, and Isabelle’s been after me to take time off. Why don’t I come back to Lima for a few weeks, and we can just hang out? Barbeque in the backyard with my dad, go to dinner at Breadstix, watch a rom-com with your mom?”

At the thought of this, something inside Blaine dissolved, and he just nodded, feeling his eyes fill with tears for what seemed like the millionth time that night. Having time to just _be_ with Kurt sounded heavenly.

“Oh, sweetheart, come here,” Kurt breathed out, taking Blaine in his arms and holding him close. Blaine collapsed against him, burying his face in Kurt’s neck and wrapping his arms tightly around his waist. “Don’t give up on us, okay? If it’s what you want, we’ll get there. I promise you.”

“I do want it,” Blaine murmured, his cheek pressed against Kurt’s skin. “I won’t give up. I love you. I love you so much.” He should have said it before, should have said it every time Kurt had, but something had been holding him back. 

He could feel Kurt suck in a breath at his words, his arms pulling him even closer. “Love you too,” Kurt replied simply, his voice light. They clung to each other for a few more moments, until Kurt slowly disentangled them and pressed a gentle kiss to Blaine’s lips. As chaste as it was, it sent an electric tingle running down Blaine’s spine, and he felt a smile stretch across his face.

Kurt was looking at him intently, trying to judge his reaction, and Blaine couldn’t help but laugh. “Kiss me again, and then let’s go to sleep before I turn into a pumpkin.”

Kurt leaned back in, meeting his lips softly, and Blaine brought his hands up to cup his face, tracing his cheekbones with his fingertips. “I love you,” Blaine said again, his forehead leaning against Kurt’s. 

Kurt grinned back at him, his cheeks pink, then tugged him up on to the bed. “All right then, lover boy, let’s get some sleep.” Kurt climbed under the covers, holding them open in invitation for Blaine. 

Blaine smiled and promptly slid in beside Kurt, wrapping himself around him and tucking his head against his chest. “I love you,” he repeated, pressing a kiss against Kurt’s neck.

“I love you too, you impossible person. Now hush and go to sleep.”

“Only if I can say it some more tomorrow.”

“You most definitely can say it some more tomorrow.”

“And every day after that.” Because that’s what he wanted. It’s what Blaine had always wanted.

Blaine could feel Kurt’s breath catch as his chest hitched under his cheek. “And every day after that,” Kurt agreed softly.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> The Warblers’ song choices for Nationals were inspired by the performances of several all-male collegiate a capella groups, the Tufts Beelzebubs (https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=TICIPRMPhKI ) and the Vanderbuilt Melodores (https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=VfhGEGOk9PY).


	13. Chapter 13

_July, 2015 – Part I_

It was only a few days since their trip to Philadelphia for Nationals, and Kurt still felt warm inside when he thought of how well the Warblers had done. It was such a testament to Blaine and all he had accomplished this year, and he couldn’t be more happy for him.

Kurt was also really, really looking forward to seeing Blaine again soon. He was sure that a few weeks of just hanging out in Lima, relaxing without any auditions or competitions to worry about, would be just what they needed. Things felt so comfortable between them now. Blaine had even voiced what his eyes had been saying to Kurt for so long, confirming that Blaine wanted what Kurt had been hoping for. 

Knowing Blaine wanted to be with him, even if they weren’t quite there yet, was wonderful. What Kurt had said to Blaine was true – he wasn’t in any rush. He didn’t need to measure their mending relationship against any outside markers. Kurt had faith that they could do this, if they both wanted it. He loved Blaine, and he always would. And now Blaine was in a place where he could say that he loved Kurt, too. The memory of Blaine’s heartfelt “I love you” that night in the hotel, Blaine’s face shining with relief and joy, was going to stay with Kurt forever. 

Reality had a way of interrupting Kurt’s fluff-filled daydreams, though. Blaine hadn’t said anything recently about where he was going to school in the fall. Not that Kurt would want to be with him any less if he wasn’t in New York, but it would necessitate some modifications to his plans for future date nights. Was he supposed to be saving money for flights and train rides, or figuring out the quickest way to get from the NYU dorms to his apartment? Would Blaine be nearby day in and day out, or would they still be doing the long distance thing? Each option had its challenges, and not knowing was driving Kurt nuts. 

Kurt wasn’t sure what the best way was to raise the issue. When Blaine didn’t bring up NYU over the competition weekend, Kurt let it go, not wanting to add to Blaine’s obvious stress. But it was July now, and it was starting to seem bizarre to Kurt that Blaine hadn’t said anything. He was hoping it wasn’t because it was bad news, but he was afraid that was the case; if it was good news, surely Blaine would have spoken up?

Kurt stayed up far too late one night debating whether to raise it before he saw Blaine in person. He finally decided that asking the question over text would be safest. If Blaine was upset, he could have some distance. Kurt ignored the voice in his head that said it shouldn’t matter that much, that it was up to Blaine to tell him where he was going to school, and that he should just chill out. He didn’t think that pretending the issue wasn’t there was going to help, all things considered. Because he knew Blaine probably thought it did matter, and if Blaine hadn’t managed to find his way back to New York, he was probably beating himself up about it. Being Blaine, he might even be thinking that it meant the end of their relationship, before it had even properly started again. But Kurt didn’t want him to think that, and he needed him to know.

When Kurt had driven himself nearly crazy with his internal monologue, he finally gave up and sent a text to Blaine. **Have you decided where you’re going to school in the fall?** Short and sweet, and let the chips fall where they may.

Blaine didn’t reply until the next night, causing Kurt to regret his decision mightily in the meantime. And when Blaine did respond, it wasn’t much help.

**From Blaine:**  
**It’s complicated.**

You ass, Kurt chastised himself. You chickened out, and now the situation is no better than when you started, except that Blaine probably feels even more awkward about it than he did before. He curled up in his bed, pulling a pillow to his chest, and pressed Blaine’s number.

Blaine answered before the phone even seemed to ring. “Hi.”

“I caved. I’m sorry,” Kurt said.

“What?” Blaine asked.

“I was going to wait until you told me. I didn’t mean to put you on the spot.”

“No, it’s okay,” Blaine said. “I was trying to hold off until things were finalized to talk to you about it. But I don’t even know when that will be.”

“How is that even possible?” Kurt asked, frustrated. “I mean, why hasn’t Tisch told you if you got in by now? Don’t the schools want deposits and everything?”

Blaine sighed. “That’s the complicated part. I put a deposit down at Berklee, but supposedly I’m still getting into Tisch. Because I’m transferring, the rules aren’t exactly set in stone, I guess, and at this point it’s sort of like being on a wait list. The Associate Dean of the performing arts department keeps assuring me that I’m going to get in, but they have to wait for a spot to officially open up, and they know one is going to, but that student hasn’t submitted his withdrawal paperwork yet… it’s kind of a shit show.”

“Wow. I don’t even know what to say. That’s ridiculous.” Poor Blaine, Kurt thought. Like he needs more stress about this.

“You think? And I haven’t even told you the craziest part. Guess who called me yesterday?”

Kurt didn’t have a clue. “Who?”

“Madame Tibideaux.”

“You’re kidding?” Kurt squeaked out as his voice rose. “What, um, what did she want?” She had to be asking him to come back to NYADA, right?

“You can guess. She’s willing to let me rejoin the program. Apparently she was at Nationals, and she was impressed by my work with the Warblers.”

Now Kurt really wished he had waited to have this conversation in person, because Blaine’s tone didn’t sound pleased despite what seemed to be fantastic news. He wished he could see his face. “How do you feel about that?” he finally said, hoping it didn’t sound as much like therapy-talk to Blaine as it did to him.

Apparently it did, as Blaine just laughed. “It’s okay, you can say it.”

“I’m trying not to assume!” Kurt laughed too. “Okay, fine. Isn’t this a good thing? Don’t you want to come back to NYADA?”

“You know, up until the very moment when she asked me to come back, I would have said absolutely. I mean, my mom was dancing around the room when I got off the phone and told her. But I’m not sure anymore.” 

“How come?” Kurt asked.

Blaine didn’t answer, and Kurt could hear a door close. “Blaine? Everything okay?”

“Yeah, sorry. This is just… I don’t want my mom to hear this until I’m sure of what I want to do.”

“We don’t have to talk about this if you don’t want to,” Kurt said softly, getting the feeling that they were nearing sensitive territory.

“No, I, um, I want to tell you.”

“Okay.” Kurt waited, knowing Blaine was probably closing his eyes and taking deep breaths, maybe fiddling with the knickknacks on his desk. He’d be ready to talk in a moment or two.

“I guess I’m kind of mad at Madame Tibideaux. I don’t think she – or NYADA – treated me very well.”

“How so?” Kurt only had the vaguest idea of why Blaine had gotten cut from the program. It hadn’t seemed like a productive thing to ask him about, especially given the guilt, justified or not, that Kurt still felt when he thought about it.

“Well, they talk a good game about advisors, and helping students with the transition to college, and the rigors of a pre-professional course of study, and how they take care of their own…” Blaine’s voice trailed off.

“But they didn’t take care of you.” 

“Yeah,” Blaine breathed out. “I mean, they were the adults in this situation. In a position to see what was happening with me. They could have offered me counseling, or any kind of mental health services. They could have suggested I take a semester off to get healthy. But instead they just cut me.”

“I get that,” Kurt said. Blaine was right. “But…”

“But what?”

“Well, from a purely selfish point of view, if NYADA is the best thing for your career, shouldn’t you go back anyway?”

Blaine sighed. “I’ve been trying to figure that out. Honestly, I really, really, loved what I saw at Tisch. I met with so many amazing professors. Not only in the drama department, but in the music department as well. I liked the classes I visited. And the students I met with were so welcoming, and a lot more diverse than at NYADA.”

“You mean you got tired of the entitled divas?”

Blaine laughed. “I’m sure there are divas at Tisch, too. But it’s a much bigger program, and it’s part of NYU, so I’d have a lot more options. It’s not Broadway or nothing there, there’s a bigger universe of courses to choose from.”

“Maybe even medical school?”

“You’ll never let me live that one down, will you?” 

Kurt smiled. “I think you’d be a great doctor, if that’s what you wanted to do.”

“Thanks,” Blaine said. He sighed again. “I just can’t believe I’m going to turn them down.”

“So you have decided.” Kurt pushed away the flutter of disappointment – this wasn’t about him.

“I think so? But then what if I don’t get into Tisch – I’ll have screwed it all up again,” Blaine said dejectedly.

And that’s exactly what Kurt had been worried about, Blaine feeling like not coming back to New York was equivalent to failure. “No, you won’t have screwed anything up. You’ll go to Berklee.”

“In Boston.”

“There’s nothing wrong with Boston,” Kurt said, with more confidence than he felt. The silence that followed let Kurt know Blaine wasn’t convinced. “Look, when I sent you that text, I figured that you were going to tell me you were going to Oberlin, and I’d be doing summer stock in Ohio like the girl in _The Last Five Years._ Boston is a much more attractive option.”

“What do you mean?”

“There are some really great regional theaters. And Diane Paulus at the American Repertory Theater in Cambridge has sent three shows to Broadway since she got there. If it’s good enough for Jeremy Jordan, it’s good enough for me.”

“Kurt, what difference does it make to you?” Blaine said shakily.

Kurt’s heart was breaking at the sound of Blaine’s voice. It was now or never. “Well, I’ve got another year here at NYADA. But I’d rather not be apart from you for any longer than that. So if you go to Berklee, I’ll come to Boston after I graduate.”

Kurt could hear Blaine taking deep breaths on the other end of the phone. “Kurt… but we’re not… we’re not even…”

“My heart is yours, Blaine. Until you tell me you don’t want it, that’s how it is.” Kurt spoke softly but firmly, hoping Blaine could feel how sincerely he meant what he was saying. ““I just want to be with you. If you’ll have me. I’m not particularly concerned about labels. Although if you ever want one, just let me know.”

“You want to be boyfriends again?” Blaine whispered, his voice barely audible over the phone. “Now?”

“Now would be great. Or later. Whatever you want.”

There was a pause, and Kurt held his breath. He knew Blaine loved him, knew he wanted to be with him. The question was just whether Blaine was ready. And if he wasn’t, that would be fine. Kurt could wait. Although it would be awfully nice if he didn’t have to.

“I’d like it to be now.” Blaine said, the words suddenly tumbling out. “I’d really like it to be now.”

“Yeah?” Kurt could feel his smile stretching his cheeks.

“Yeah.”

“Good. Good. That’s really good.” Kurt grinned, wishing he could give Blaine a hug. “I love you, you know.”

“I know. I love you too.” Blaine’s voice was high, but then he just laughed, and Kurt thought his heart was going to burst. “God, Kurt, it seems crazy to do this again, but you make me so happy. You just do. I’m still kind of a mess, but-”

“It doesn’t matter,” Kurt said quickly. “I mean, it does matter if you feel that way, but it doesn’t make me love you any less. It doesn’t make me want to be with you any less. Honestly.”

“You love me just the way I am?” Blaine asked, a tentative lilt in his voice.

“I do,” Kurt said seriously. “And I think I know better what that means, now.”

Blaine was quiet for a moment, and Kurt hoped he hadn’t gone too far. But he didn’t want Blaine’s illness to be a taboo subject between them, especially not when Blaine had alluded to it himself. 

“Wow,” Blaine said finally. “Um…” he broke off, another moment going by. “Boy, this is hard.”

“You don’t have to-”

“No, I’m just trying to figure out how to say something.” Another pause. “I’m going to really try to be open about what’s going on with me. I’m doing well, so much better than I was, I really am. But… some days it’s still not so good.”

Kurt struggled for a moment, not quite knowing what to say to reassure Blaine. “I know it’s not something I can fix. But… I hear you. And I want to help, when I can. Try not to be afraid to tell me about it, okay?”

“Okay. Don’t be afraid to ask, either.”

Kurt wasn’t sure, but that seemed like a pretty big thing for Blaine to say. He was really putting himself out there. It was a little overwhelming, but in the best way. “All right. I’ll try.” He sucked in a deep breath and let it out slowly. “I really can’t wait to see you.”

“Me too.”

Kurt could hardly believe they’d started this conversation talking about college. At this point, all he wanted to do was hold Blaine and revel in the fact that they were _boyfriends_ again, but there were still a few more days until his trip to Lima. Until then, perhaps they could talk about lighter things. “This conversation really took a turn, didn’t it?” 

Blaine laughed shakily. “Yeah, it did.”

“Do you mind if I change the subject?” 

“Not at all.”

“I’ve got a very important question for you.”

“Oh?”

“Does your mom still like hazelnut truffles, or should I branch out? This little café I found sells marzipan hearts dipped in dark chocolate that are to die for.”

Blaine laughed again, steadier now. “You know you don’t have to bribe her. She adores you.”

“Yeah, but chocolate never hurts.”

“Truer words have never been spoken,” Blaine agreed.

“I don’t know… how about _I love you?_ ” When he had become such a sap?

“Kurt… I love you too.” 

Apparently it was when he met one Blaine Devon Anderson. And if being a sap made Blaine’s voice sound like that – like nothing could bring him down – then it was more than worth it.


	14. Chapter 14

_July, 2015 – Part II_

Blaine dashed out of his car and up on to the porch, trying to keep the bakery box in his arms from getting soaked by the rain that had been falling steadily all morning. Their plan to barbeque in the backyard had gotten rained out, but he was spending the day at Kurt’s house anyway. Apparently Carole had insisted, and was preparing an indoor picnic in lieu of their backyard party.

Kurt had flown back to Ohio two days ago, but they hadn’t seen each other yet. Blaine had thought they might get coffee together yesterday, or dinner, but Kurt had claimed that he wasn’t feeling well and just wanted to lay low for the day. He even rebuffed Blaine’s offer to bring him some freshly squeezed orange juice and chicken soup. 

Blaine suspected that Kurt just needed a little time to himself, and he was fine with that. He had learned that Kurt’s need for space didn’t necessarily have anything to do with him, and had realized how much he himself enjoyed time alone, as long as he didn’t spend it worrying about whether he was alone because no one wanted to be with him. Given their recent conversation about being boyfriends again, Blaine wasn’t doubting Kurt’s interest, at least not very much. He just wished that Kurt had told him the truth. And he really hoped nothing was actually wrong.

Unfortunately, the atmosphere at the Hummel-Hudson’s did nothing to allay his fears. Carole and Burt were friendly enough to Blaine, asking him interested questions about the Warblers and their recent victory, but there was obviously something going on between Kurt and his father. 

After lunch Carole and Burt announced their plan to go out to a movie. Blaine poked his head out the front door to make sure his car wasn’t in their way, and when he turned around, Burt was standing in the doorway behind him.

“Can I talk to you for a minute?” Burt asked, his face impassive.

Blaine felt his heartbeat speed up, and he looked at Burt more closely. He didn’t look ill, but maybe the cancer had come back, or something else terrible had happened.

“Of course.”

Burt inclined his head and they stepped out on to the porch, Burt closing the door behind him. It was so hot out that the rain seemed to steam as it splashed onto the asphalt driveway. Blaine fidgeted with his watch, wondering what was going on.

“Is Kurt okay?” Burt asked directly.

This wasn’t what Blaine was expecting at all. He must have looked as surprised as he felt, as Burt quickly backpedaled.

“I mean, I know you guys have been spending more time together, and that’s great. So I figured you might be able to tell me if he’s okay. If he’s happy.”

“Mr. Hummel…” The honorific slipped out, and Burt just rolled his eyes at him. “I don’t know what you want me to say. You should probably ask Kurt.” The echo of his “overstepping” years ago had never fully gone away, and Blaine wasn’t about to put his foot in that mud puddle again. Besides, he really wasn’t sure what Burt was getting at.

Burt harrumphed and shook his head, gazing out into the downpour. “He just seems a little… fragile.”

“Not to me.” In fact, Kurt had been Blaine’s rock lately. Of course he needed some reassurance every once in a while just like everyone else – that moment in the hotel room when Kurt asked him to be the big spoon was one example that made Blaine’s heart warm, remembering the feeling of Kurt snuggling back against him, trusting and calm – but to Blaine, Kurt was anything but fragile.

Burt wasn’t convinced, however. “Well, maybe today he is. Just, I don’t know… look out for him.”

Blaine nodded, still confused, and Burt opened the door for him to go back inside. Carole gave him a soft smile as she joined Burt and they headed out to their car, scurrying through the rain. The whole strange conversation had only taken a minute. 

Kurt was in the kitchen wiping down the countertop when Blaine entered the room. Blaine paused in the doorway, watching Kurt scrub at an invisible spot next to the sink, and forced himself to consider Burt’s words. Something was obviously upsetting Kurt, and there had to be a way he could help.

Blaine approached Kurt and leaned back against the counter, careful not to crowd him. Kurt startled, and for a moment looked almost surprised to see Blaine there. Blaine gave him a second to get his bearings, wondering what had him so spooked. “Everything okay?” 

“Sure” Kurt said lightly. “The leftovers are put away and the dishwasher’s loaded. Nothing left to do.”

Kurt’s deflection was a red flag if there ever was one, and Blaine almost cringed. So much for being more open about his feelings. Whatever was going on must be bad. This called for extreme measures.

“It’s pretty nice outside. Let’s go out.”

Kurt looked at Blaine like he had suggested going to get neon colored slushies at the neighborhood convenience store. “It’s pouring, Blaine.”

“Summer storms are the best.” Blaine took Kurt’s hand and dragged him towards the back door. Kurt didn’t resist, apparently not really believing that Blaine was serious until he had slid the door open and tugged him outside on to the deck.

“Blaine! We’re getting soaked!” Kurt looked furious, hunching his shoulders up to his ears.

“I know, I know. Just bear with me.” Blaine pulled Kurt out into the middle of the yard, then turned him around to face away from Blaine and put his hands on his shoulders. He leaned close to Kurt and spoke calmly into his ear. “It’s so hot out, the rain actually feels great if you just go with it. Think of it as a therapeutic spa treatment.”

“I don’t smell any eucalyptus.” Kurt struggled but Blaine kept a firm hold on his shoulders.

“No, but you can smell the grass, and the flowers in the garden, and the leaves on the trees.” Blaine laid his head gently on Kurt’s shoulder, trying to ignore the gel streaming out of his hair. 

Kurt made a disapproving noise but stopped trying to get away. “Fine, but I don’t see the point.”

“Close your eyes and try to relax.” Blaine ran a hand along Kurt’s shoulder and gently pushed on the back of his neck until Kurt bowed his head, letting the rain pour over him, their heads close together. “Take some deep breaths.”

“You’re just lucky I’m not wearing silk.”

“As if I would have let you ruin your clothes.”

Blaine closed his eyes and breathed deeply, rubbing his hands up and down Kurt’s arms to encourage him to relax. The sweet smell of the peonies nearby was intoxicating. He could feel Kurt deflating under his hands, and moved closer to him, wrapping his arms around Kurt’s waist and letting him sag back against him. After a few minutes Kurt turned in his arms, resting his head on Blaine’s shoulder and sighing. Blaine reached up and smoothed Kurt’s hair off his face. They were thoroughly drenched now. Blaine just stood there quietly, holding Kurt gently against him and letting the rain wash over them both.

“I said some terrible things to my dad,” Kurt said finally. “I didn’t mean it, but it…” Blaine could feel Kurt’s breath hitch. “I was horrible… and… he doesn’t deserve that.”

“What happened?”

Kurt took a few deep breaths, and then shook his head. “I can’t…” He pulled back from Blaine, his distress written all over his face. “Can I just show you?”

They went back inside, trying not to drip all over as they pulled towels out of the linen closet. Kurt stripped off his sodden shirt so Blaine did the same, laying them both on the washing machine to be addressed later.

“Come on.” Blaine followed Kurt up the stairs and into what he immediately realized used to be Finn’s bedroom. It had been completely redone, with bright yellow walls and a white desk and file cabinets. A new treadmill stood in the middle of the room, facing a television in a pine cabinet with flowers stenciled up and down the sides.

“I came home and saw this and I exploded,” Kurt said, his voice tight. “I screamed at my dad. I said he didn’t care about Finn, didn’t respect him enough to honor his memory. I said he wanted to forget him…” Kurt’s face crumpled and Blaine quickly took him in his arms, pulling him into a tight hug.

“It’s okay, it’s okay,” Blaine repeated, as Kurt sobbed against him. “He knows you didn’t mean it. It’s okay.”

“It’s not,” Kurt choked out. “It’s not okay. Why would I say that?”

“You were surprised, and you’re still grieving. You miss Finn.” Blaine lowered them both until they were sitting on the floral rug, Kurt wrapping his arms around Blaine’s shoulders as he hung his head and struggled to catch his breath.

“But why am I still grieving and they’re not? What’s wrong with me?”

“There’s nothing wrong with you. Everyone grieves differently.” Blaine stroked Kurt’s damp skin, noting the tattoo he hadn’t seen in so long, the long planes of Kurt’s body that tensed and shuddered. “And who says they’re not still grieving?”

“I know, I know, it’s just…” Kurt tilted his head back and sucked in a long breath. “I feel like such an ass. I wasn’t prepared, I guess, for how it would feel to come back here. I mean, last year I was home for the holidays, and they were miserable, but we were actively thinking about Finn all the time. It was Thanksgiving without Finn, and Christmas without Finn, and we dealt with it. But now… now it just feels like they got used to him not being here. Like they don’t notice it any more.”

“I’m sure that’s not true. Although it probably is different for them, being here all the time, than for you.”

Kurt nodded. “I get that, rationally, but…” He sighed and closed his eyes, letting his head thump down on Blaine’s shoulder again. “It’s not right that he’s gone. I miss him so much.”

“I know.”

“I shouldn’t have taken it out on you, though.”

“What do you mean?”

“You knew I wasn’t sick yesterday, didn’t you?”

 _Oh._ “Yeah, I figured.”

“You’re not mad?”

Blaine resisted the urge to say “of course not.” “I’m not mad, exactly…”

“Just disappointed?”

Blaine laughed and turned, catching Kurt’s eye. “I don’t mind at all that you needed some space. I think that’s one of the most important things I’ve learned this year – that we both need time apart from each other, and that it’s really okay. I know we used to talk about it last year, but I don’t think I ever really believed that it didn’t mean you were upset with me.”

“I was totally _not_ upset with you-”

“I know, I do, that’s what I’m saying. It was really, truly fine that you couldn’t get together yesterday. You had your reasons, and they were good ones. I just wish you had shared them with me.”

Kurt’s face fell a little. “I went for a convenient excuse to avoid talking about what was really bothering me. I made you worry. I won’t do it again.”

Blaine shrugged. “We’ll probably both do it again. But we can try not to.” He took a deep breath. “You can trust me, Kurt.”

“I know,” Kurt said. “It’s just hard sometimes. Not because of you, just because of, well, me. But I’m working on it.”

“Believe me, I get it.” Blaine leaned his forehead against Kurt’s, and they just sat there for a minute, Kurt reaching out to put an arm around Blaine’s shoulders. 

Eventually Kurt sighed and sat back, rearranging his legs in front of him. “I owe my dad an apology. I was really mean.”

Blaine pressed his lips together to hold back his response but apparently he wasn’t quick enough, as Kurt raised his head and looked at him, his reddened eyes narrowed. “What?”

Blaine scrunched his face up, trying to find a way to speak his mind diplomatically. “Your dad knows you pretty well, Kurt.”

It only took a second for Kurt to get it. “Blaine Anderson, what are you saying?” he said, feigning shock.

“That this probably isn’t the first time you turned your clever tongue on him, and spoke without thinking it through.”

“I’ll give you a clever tongue,” Kurt responded, giving Blaine an amused look.

“Is that a promise?” Blaine bantered back, and then froze as he realized what he had said. But Kurt just laughed and stood up, extending his hand to Blaine. 

“Absolutely.”

As Kurt pulled him up Blaine swayed into Kurt, his naked chest hitting Kurt’s with a smack, and he was reminded of their picnic in the McKinley courtyard years ago. The coincidence was too much, and Blaine only had to incline his head to press a firm kiss to Kurt’s lips. 

Kurt blinked at him in surprise, and then kissed him back, his hand behind Blaine’s head to hold him close. Blaine brought a hand up to Kurt’s cheek and opened his mouth to lick at Kurt’s lips, his body responding immediately as Kurt pulled him closer with a hand to the small of his waist. After a few moments they pulled apart, both breathing heavily. 

“Is this okay?” Kurt asked carefully, eyes focused on Blaine’s. 

Blaine smiled, sighing with pleasure. “Yeah, it is.” He looked around the room, and Kurt noticed, but just shook his head.

“I don’t think Finn would mind,” Kurt said, and leaned in for another kiss. “He was always on our side.”

“Kurt? Everything okay? The door to the yard was open…”

Blaine jumped back at the sound of Burt’s voice, but Kurt grabbed his hand, sucking in a deep breath as Burt appeared in the doorway.

“Hope I’m not interrupting,” Burt said smugly, taking in their missing shirts and drenched shorts. “The movie was sold out. We’re going to look for something to watch on Netflix instead. Care to join us?”

Blaine shot a quick look at Kurt, but he wasn’t any help, his gaze flickering around the room. “Sure. Give us a few minutes to get changed and we’ll be right down.”

Burt nodded and went back downstairs, and Kurt let out a slow breath. “God. It’s like high school all over again.”

“Not exactly,” Blaine said, brazenly running a finger down Kurt’s chest. Kurt had definitely matured since high school. Kurt’s eyes flashed up at him, and Blaine couldn’t help but smirk. “What?”

“I’ve got to go talk to my dad now, and you’re doing that?”

“Sorry,” Blaine shrugged, neither of them really believing it. It felt so good to be close to Kurt this way, after so long. Blaine really didn’t want to stop. But apparently now was not the time.

They went into Kurt’s room and rummaged through his closet to find some dry clothes. Kurt tossed Blaine some sweats and a thin cotton hoodie, but after Blaine pulled the top over his head, he found Kurt looking at him oddly, still holding the shirt he had found for himself in one hand.

“Kurt? What’s wrong?” Blaine asked.

“It’s really not like when we were in high school, is it?”

Not even remotely, Blaine thought. “No, it’s not.” In high school he had believed that true love would conquer all, and that if you were a decent person and worked hard, all your dreams would come true. Now he wasn’t so sure.

“But you know what’s good about it?” Kurt came over to him and took his hand, dropping the shirt on to the bed. 

“What?”

Kurt’s eyes were shining with emotion. “We’re learning how to take care of each other now.”

Blaine looked away and pressed his lips together, embarrassed. “I just wish I didn’t need so much taking care of.”

“Blaine,” Kurt breathed out, putting a hand to his cheek and turning Blaine’s face towards his own. “I’m pretty sure I was the one that needed taking care of today.”

Blaine searched Kurt’s face, but saw nothing there but honesty and affection. “Did I do okay?” he asked softly.

“Yeah, sweetheart, you did. You did great.”


	15. Chapter 15

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Tw: includes slurs/discussion of homophobia

_July, 2015 – Part III_

 

The next week went by too fast. At first Kurt was nervous, anxious to make every date and get together special, to anticipate Blaine’s needs and then some. But he started to relax when he saw that Blaine was doing the same thing. After another round of “you pick, no you pick” one night before they headed out to a restaurant, they dissolved into laughter and confessed how hard they had both been trying. When Blaine pointed out how ironic it was, given that the whole point of Kurt’s trip to Lima had been to give them some unstructured, low pressure time together, they changed their plans, ordered delivery pizza, and spent the evening in front of the television. Kurt thought it was perfect.

They next day they had dinner at a new burger place in town and then headed down the street towards the park. Kurt was hoping there would be a band playing; he was dying to find an excuse to dance with Blaine. They walked contentedly together down the sidewalk, the streetlights twinkling on as the summer evening grew dark. 

As they entered the park and continued on down the path, Blaine’s phone rang. Blaine frowned as he took it out of his pocket and Kurt stepped away so he could take the call in relative privacy, wandering over towards the bandstand to see if there was any sign of a performance. As he got closer he could see that people were camped out in folding chairs and blankets in the center of the green. A group dressed in tuxes and black dresses was assembling on the stage, setting up music stands and taking out their instruments. Kurt grinned to himself. This was shaping up to be an incredible night.

Suddenly there were arms wrapped tight around him and Blaine was hooting with excitement. “I got in! I got in!”

“Tisch?” Kurt asked, turning and taking Blaine’s hands in his. 

Blaine nodded excitedly, spinning Kurt around. “I did it! I’m coming back to New York!” He grabbed Kurt into a tight hug and pressed a smacking kiss to his lips. “Oh my god, I can’t believe it.”

Kurt squeezed him tightly and kissed him again. “I knew you’d get in.” 

“I’m so happy,” Blaine breathed out, his eyes wide as they stared at Kurt. “Holy crap, I am _so_ happy.”

“Me too,” Kurt admitted, snagging a finger in Blaine’s belt and pulling him close again. “Me too.” He wrapped his arms over Blaine’s shoulders and just held him near, Blaine sighing and resting his head against Kurt’s.

“I got in,” Blaine said quietly, tilting his head and smiling broadly at Kurt. “You don’t have to come to Boston.”

“We don’t have to be apart.” Kurt was overwhelmed with relief. “You’ll be in New York again. Just like before-” Kurt snapped his mouth shut, not wanting to raise the spectre of their break up. 

Luckily Blaine wasn’t going to let anything ruin his joy at finally knowing that he could get back to the city of what had apparently become his dreams, as well as Kurt’s. “Not just like before,” Blaine said, raising a hand to Kurt’s cheek and turning his face towards his. “Better.”

“Better,” Kurt agreed, leaning his face into Blaine’s hand. “We can do this, right?” 

“You know, I really think we can.”

Kurt heard the band start to warm up, but was quickly distracted as Blaine pulled him close again and proceeded to kiss him breathless, one hand on his cheek and the other wrapping tightly around his back. Kurt laced his arms around Blaine’s shoulders and let his hands touch and stroke, the cotton of Blaine’s button-up soft under his fingers.

“Hey fags, go home!” 

Kurt pulled his arms off Blaine’s shoulders and spun towards the sound, scanning the darkness to see a cluster of four or five kids walking across the grass, the largest one wearing something which he could swear was a McKinley football jersey. His blood ran cold, and as he moved to approach the group he barely felt Blaine’s hand digging into his arm, holding him back.

“It’s okay, Kurt. They’re leaving,” Blaine said urgently. “Let them go.”

The group was headed away from them, towards the parking lot, but then they slowed down, looking back at Kurt and Blaine. A tall girl separated from the group and ran towards them. Kurt sucked in a deep breath but hardly had time to wonder what was going to happen next when the girl skidded to a stop in front of them.

“I’m so sorry,” the girl said, looking back and forth between them, her high ponytail swishing behind her head. “He’s an ass. We won’t let him get away with it. I’m really sorry.”

“Thanks,” Blaine said softly, and she ran off again, joining her friends. They could hear her berating one of the guys, and saw the jersey-wearing jock smacking the culprit across the back of the head, as the kids made their way out of the park. 

The band began playing, the strains of “Sentimental Journey” sounding vaguely off key to Kurt’s ears. Blaine was still clutching Kurt’s bicep, his other arm at his side with his hand in a tight fist, his face looking odd in the dim light. Kurt swallowed hard, trying to figure out what to say, his mind unable to focus.

Blaine tugged at him, and they moved to a nearby bench. When Blaine let go of his arm Kurt could feel it throb; he was going to have a bruise there tomorrow.

“I’m sorry,” Blaine breathed out, his hands now restless in his lap. “I shouldn’t have been all over you like that. I got carried away.”

“What? No. No,” Kurt said. “And it wasn’t just you. I was completely on board. Besides, we weren’t doing anything wrong.”

“It’s Lima, Kurt. You haven’t been here, you forget what it’s like.”

“Haven’t things gotten better?” Kurt shifted to face Blaine, pressing his knee against Blaine’s thigh.

“Depends what you mean. An openly gay guy is on the McKinley football team. But he nearly got attacked.”

“Nearly?”

Blaine rubbed his hands on his shorts, sighing. “He kind of beat the crap out of them. But plenty of other kids are still having to deal with it.”

Kurt set a hand gently on top of one of Blaine’s. “At least you don’t have to deal with that anymore.”

Blaine looked at Kurt then, biting his lip. “That’s not completely true.”

“What do you mean? Dalton still has a zero tolerance policy, doesn’t it?”

Blaine huffed and stood up, swinging his arms a little in frustration. “It doesn’t seem to apply to teachers. Plus I’m not at Dalton twenty-four seven.”

“But you…” 

“We’ve been through this before, Kurt,” Blaine said, exasperated. “Despite what you think, people are pretty quick to recognize that I’m gay, or at least different enough to be a target.” Blaine waived at himself, dressed today in bright red shorts, a white shirt, and a yellow and blue striped bowtie. “I still get taunted sometimes, it’s just part of life.”

Kurt stood up, coming close to Blaine but not touching him, not yet. “Hey, I’m sorry. I didn’t realize.” Blaine stopped pacing and looked at Kurt, his eyes wide. “You’re right, I have been away a long time,” Kurt said. “I have forgotten what it’s like here.” He held out his hand and, thankfully, Blaine took it. Kurt squeezed Blaine’s hand and took a breath. “Do people really harass you at Dalton?”

Blaine shrugged. “It’s mostly just little stuff. There’s one teacher, though, an older guy, who really doesn’t like me. He loves to comment on the news, grumble about ‘the meaning of marriage’ and ‘those gays.’ Gives me dirty looks, won’t call me by name…”

“That’s awful.” Kurt sighed, pulling Blaine a little closer to him. “How does he treat the gay students?”

“I’ve talked to some of the Warblers that have him for a teacher, and they claim he hasn’t said anything outright. I’ve mentioned it to the Dean, but so far nothing’s happened. At least he teaches math, not social studies or anything where his bias could make more of a difference. But I certainly wouldn’t want to be in his class.”

“That sucks.” Kurt’s heart went out to Blaine. He hadn’t even considered this aspect of Blaine’s extra year in Lima. At least Blaine was there to support the Dalton students. He couldn’t even imagine how cool it would have been to have had a teacher like Blaine.

Blaine nodded. “Yeah, it does.” He sucked in a deep breath, then let it out, a small smile tugging at the edge of his mouth. The band was getting louder, the horn section starting off a jazzy swing piece with a flourish. A few couples jumped up from their picnics and began dancing, unable to resist the upbeat tune. 

“I love this song,” Blaine said, raising an eyebrow at Kurt. Blaine stepped back and gallantly held out his hand. Kurt felt a smile pull at his cheeks as he anticipated Blaine’s next words. “Dance with me?”

They made their way over to the area in front of the bandstand, Blaine easily turning Kurt to take him in his arms. “Are you sure?” Kurt asked as Blaine settled a hand on his waist, searching Blaine’s wide eyes for any trace of fear. No one seemed to be paying much attention to them, but Blaine was right. Kurt had forgotten what it was like in Lima. Thank god Blaine was coming back to New York. The city wasn’t perfect, but it was a lot better than this.

Blaine took a quick look around them, but seemed satisfied enough, beginning to move them to the music. “Since when have we let this kind of thing ruin our chance to dance together? Besides, I know you brought me here tonight because you wanted to dance with me.”

Kurt blushed. “So what if I did?”

“Well, I wouldn’t be your handsome prince if I didn’t grant your wish,” Blaine said confidently, twirling Kurt out and back again. 

“I think the fairy godmother is the one that grants the wishes,” Kurt said, smiling as he came back up against Blaine.

“Hmm. Okay. Fairy godmother it is, then.”

“Fairy something, anyway,” Kurt said, grinning as he switched it up, spinning Blaine around and then leaning him into a dip. “I love you to pieces, you know,” he said, pulling Blaine in close, reveling in the feeling of his chest rising and falling against him.

They danced for a while, spinning and twisting, and then Blaine relaxed in Kurt’s arms as the band began a slower song. Blaine began to sing along, crooning the words softly into Kurt’s ear. _”My romance doesn’t need to have a moon in the sky. My romance doesn’t need a blue lagoon standing by.”_

Kurt closed his eyes and let Blaine’s rich voice seep into him, his love for this man flowing through his body like never before. 

_”No month of May, no twinkling stars. No hideaway, no soft guitars,”_ Blaine sang along. 

Kurt knew that Blaine worried that he was too much of a mess – his words -- to be a real part of a relationship, but from what Kurt could see, Blaine was stronger than ever. He was confident in himself in a new way, and it was wonderful. Even more exciting, it was clear to Kurt that Blaine trusted in their love for each other, in a way Kurt didn’t think Blaine ever really had before. It had been a ridiculously hard year, but somewhere along the way, Kurt thought they must have done something right.

Blaine continued singing, fluttering his eyelashes at Kurt. _”My romance doesn’t need a castle rising in Spain. Or a dance to a constantly surprising refrain. Wide awake, I can make my most fantastic dreams come true. My romance doesn’t need a thing but you.”_ Blaine finished the song and pressed a soft kiss to Kurt’s lips. 

“It’s true, you know,” Blaine said quietly as they moved aside, the director announcing that the band was taking a short break.

“What’s true?” Kurt asked, twining his fingers with Blaine’s.

“I don’t need any of that stuff I always thought I did – serenading show choirs, rose petals...” Blaine’s expression was sincere, his face shining and open. “I just need you.”

Kurt squeezed Blaine’s hand. “You’ve got me. We’ve got each other.”

Blaine beamed, and turned to look at Kurt, walking backwards for a few steps. “And I’m coming to New York.”

“You’re coming to New York.” 

“And do you know what the best part is?” Blaine asked, his eyes flashing in the glow of the streetlamps.

“No, what?”

“This time you don’t have any roommates.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> The mentioned songs are “Sentimental Journey,” often sung by Ella Fitzgerald, and “My Romance,” by Rodgers and Hart (I particularly like James Taylor’s version).
> 
> I have to say I nearly fell off the couch when Kurt casually tells Rachel in 6x11 that Blaine is going to NYU - I wrote this chapter weeks ago, and was completely unaware that this would happen in canon, too (although it makes a lot of sense).


	16. Chapter 16

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Tw: Depression; concern re self-harm

_August, 2015 – Part I_

It was late on a Friday night, and Kurt was still at Vogue.com. He wasn’t working, just surfing the web and taking advantage of the office’s air conditioning, which was far superior to that in his own apartment. New York City in August was way too hot for humans to exist, as far as Kurt was concerned.

He smiled when his phone rang and he saw Blaine’s face pop up on the screen. It was a picture Burt had taken of the two of them, the day of the rained out barbeque, after an afternoon of movies and popcorn and big hugs all around. Blaine’s hair was riotously curly, and Kurt’s was a little flat, but they were both beaming like there was no tomorrow. Kurt loved it.

He shook his head and focused on what Blaine was saying.

“You were right. It’s too late to get into the dorms, so my dream of being a regular college kid is dashed once again.”

Blaine didn’t sound very unhappy, though, so Kurt just grinned and went with it. “Oh? Any alternate plans?”

“Yup.” Kurt could practically hear Blaine bouncing. “You’ll never believe who’s looking for a roommate.”

Kurt felt his heart sink. It couldn’t be Sebastian, could it? No, he thought sternly to himself, no more being worried about that weasel. He hadn’t even seen him in years. But who could it be? “Artie?”

“Nope. Guess again.”

“Sam?”

Blaine huffed. “You’re not even trying. You know Sam hates New York.”

It couldn’t be a graduating Dalton student, could it? That would be weird. “Can’t you just tell me? At least give me a hint.”

“Fine. It’s not a guy.”

Well, that was a relief. No potential competition, and a greater likelihood that the place wouldn’t smell like feet. “I don’t know. Just please don’t say Tina.” Because she was kind of like competition, in a creepy way.

Blaine laughed, rich and sweet. “No, but you’re close. It’s Kitty!”

Kurt let the thought of Kitty as Blaine’s roommate sink in for a minute. He didn’t know her very well, but from what he had seen and heard over the years, she had a way with words he couldn’t help but admire, and a true fondness for Blaine. This might work out well. 

“Does she have an apartment yet?” Kurt hoped it would be near his – there was a good chance it would be, if they were looking for something near NYU. Although Blaine hadn’t actually said where Kitty was going to school.

“Yeah, I’ve got the address here somewhere.” Kurt could hear Blaine put down the phone, and then his annoyed, “Hey, give that back!”

“Kurt! Hi!” It was Sam, of course. Who else would Blaine be hanging out with on a Friday night? “We are right in the middle of a _Firefly_ marathon. Right in the middle! It’s shiny!” Sam canted his voice lower, apparently trying to sound like Nathan Fillion. “No more runnin’. I aim to misbehave.” Kurt could hear Blaine sighing in the background. “Blaine will call you later, okay Captain Tight Pants?”

“Sorry, Kurt.” Blaine had apparently regained control of the phone. “Apparently Sam really wants me to get off the phone.”

“I’ll burn your bow ties! I will! Or I’ll tie you up with them and you’ll never get away!” came Sam’s voice.

“He doesn’t even realize what he says sometimes, does he?” Kurt marveled.

“No, he really doesn’t,” Blaine agreed. “But we do have a lot of episodes left to watch. The next one is awesome – Jayne is the hero of this little mudtown. They even wrote a song about him.”

“Fine, but… Captain Tight Pants?” 

Blaine laughed. “That’s what someone calls Mal – you know, the captain.”

“Who wears tight pants. I got it.” Kurt had never had as much affection for everything Joss Whedon as Blaine and Sam did, although he certainly appreciated a good Buffy quip as much as the next person. But at least he was the captain in this scenario. And he couldn’t deny that he wore tight pants. Certainly Blaine didn’t seem to mind.

“I’ve got to go, Kurt. Love you.”

Kurt thrilled at the casual way the words fell off Blaine’s lips. “Love you too. Call me later? I want to hear more about your apartment.”

“Will do.”

***  
Kurt left his phone’s ringer on when he got into bed, settling it on the pillow next to him. He didn’t really expect Blaine to call him, given that he was probably staying up late watching television with Sam, but if he did call, Kurt didn’t want to miss it. He was counting down the days until Blaine was going to be in New York, but until then, late night phone conversations would just have to tide them over.

Kurt was fast asleep when the phone finally rang, drawing him out of a dream about meeting Dame Maggie Smith while wearing a dinosaur costume. It was a strange dream, but he’d take any contact with Maggie Smith he could get. He flopped over and grabbed the phone, swiping it on and pulling a pillow to his chest. “Hey, handsome.”

“Kuuurrt, hi,” Blaine said, his voice slurred. “You have to help me.”

Kurt sat up, his sleepy brain clearing. “What? What’s wrong?”

“I said I’d call, so I’m calling, and it’s perfect, so you can help me,” Blaine sing-songed softly. “You always help me.”

Kurt could barely make out what Blaine was saying. “Honey, are you okay? Where are you?”

“At home,” Blaine said slowly. “In the bathroom.”

Kurt heard a scraping noise, and then a soft “ow.”

“Blaine, what are you doing?”

“Looking for”- a clatter – “oh, shoot. They fell.”

“What fell?” Kurt struggled out of bed, feeling like he should throw on his clothes and go find Blaine. But of course, he was hundreds of miles away.

“The pills,” Blaine said.

Kurt’s heart pounded hard in his chest. Blaine had been fine when they talked earlier that night, had something happened? “Blaine, stop, what are you doing? Listen to me, Blaine, please, don’t do it. This isn’t the answer.”

“Huh?”

“Blaine, did you take any pills already? Tell me what you took.” Kurt was frantically pulling on his coat. He’d go pound on a neighbor’s door, use their phone to call 911 while he kept Blaine on the line.

“’Course I did. Always do. Same time every day.”

“Anything else, though?”

“Jus’ some stuff for my allergies.”

Kurt froze, halfway out his front door. “Allergies?”

“Mmm. Sam brought daisies for my mom, but forgot to put ‘em in water. I put them in a pretty vase before I went to sleep and – bam! – couldn’t stop sneezing.” Blaine sniffed loudly as if to demonstrate. 

Relief coursed through Kurt as he stepped back inside his apartment and closed the door behind him. “Are you sure that’s okay? With the other meds you take?”

“’s fine,” Blaine replied. “I’m a little sleepy, but it’s fine. My mom freaked out, too.”

This didn’t surprise Kurt. Blaine was always super sensitive to medication. Taking allergy medication on top of everything else seemed like a monumentally bad idea. “That’s because taking an antihistamine with your meds could give you a really bad reaction, Blaine,” Kurt said, his voice rising. “Why would you do that? Why would you take that risk?”

“You think I’m an idiot? Doctor said it was fine. It’s fine.” Blaine’s voice was stronger now, and he sounded almost angry. “Found the damn cup. Good night, Kurt.”

“Cup?”

He heard the sound of water running. “What I was looking for. I was thirsty.”

“Blaine…” Kurt’s head was spinning. “Are you sure you’re okay?”

“Dandy.” Kurt heard a door close. “I’m going back to bed,” Blaine said bitterly.

“Wait, talk with me a little bit?”

“Gotta go to sleep. Got a meeting at Dalton in the morning.”

Blaine hung up, and Kurt just stood there in his entryway, hands still shaking. He wasn’t sure what had just happened, but he knew it wasn’t anything good. He went back into his bedroom, clutching his phone and trying to figure out what to do next. He paced around the room for a few minutes, trying to decide whether to call Blaine. Finally he pressed out a text.

**From Kurt:**   
**I love you. Call me when you’re done with your meeting, okay?**

The next day, as the hours ticked by with no call from Blaine, Kurt grew increasingly concerned. He really didn’t think he had done anything wrong, but Blaine was clearly upset. He had to talk to him. He wasn’t even sure what he was going to say, he just needed to hear Blaine’s voice.

As Kurt got into bed that night, checking his phone for what seemed like the thousandth time and finding no response from Blaine, he thought about calling Sam. Maybe he should ask him to stop by Blaine’s house, make sure everything was okay? But how would he explain what had happened without intruding on Blaine’s privacy? Sure, Blaine didn’t have much in the way of personal boundaries when it came to Sam, but Kurt got the feeling this was over the line. 

Kurt tossed and turned until almost midnight, then picked up his phone again.

**From Kurt:**   
**Please talk to me. I love you so much. I’m worried about you.**

Apparently that wasn’t the right thing to say. It prompted a response from Blaine, but not the one Kurt was hoping for.

**From Blaine:**   
**I didn’t ask you to worry about me. I’m fine.**

Well, at least he was alive.

**From Kurt:**   
**I can’t help it, you’re important to me. Can I call you?**

**From Blaine:**   
**Not tonight.**

**From Kurt:**   
**What’s your schedule like tomorrow? Can I call you in the morning?**

**From Blaine:**   
**Kurt, back off.**

Kurt felt his eyes burning with tears as he read Blaine’s text, phone frozen in his hands. Almost immediately, another message popped up.

**From Blaine:**   
**I don’t mean to be hurtful. We talk all the time about space. I just need some right now, okay?**

**From Kurt:**   
**Okay. I love you.**

Blaine didn’t respond. Kurt curled up in bed, tears leaking out of his eyes and rolling down his cheeks, and tried desperately to figure out what to do to fix this. He loved Blaine so much, and he knew Blaine loved him. Why wasn’t it enough?

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Please don’t rely on this fic for medical advice – it is my understanding that people on medication for depression or similar conditions generally should not take many other kinds of medicine without consulting their physicians, including quite possibly certain allergy medications. The advice Blaine got from his doctor would be very specific to his situation and the meds that he is taking.


	17. Chapter 17

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Tw: depression, discussion of suicide

_August, 2015 – Part II_

 

Two more days went by. Two more long, torturous, days that Kurt filled from morning to night with every mind numbing activity he could come up with – extra hours at Vogue.com, cleaning his apartment from top to bottom, messaging friends he hadn’t spoken to in weeks. He even called up Wes, but it turned out he was working in Boston for the summer and not available to distract Kurt.

Kurt was getting ready for bed, telling himself once again that calling Blaine to say good night would _not_ be giving him the space he had requested, when the phone rang. Kurt crawled up on his bed and tucked his knees against his chest, took a deep breath, and answered.

“Blaine. I’m so glad you called.”

There was a pause, and Kurt froze, wondering for a minute if it wasn’t actually Blaine on the other end. Maybe Sam had stolen his phone and was calling to say Blaine never wanted to speak with him again. 

“Hi,” Blaine finally said. “We need to talk.”

“Okay.” When Blaine didn’t reply, Kurt figured he’d start. “I’m so sorry for upsetting you, Blaine. I don’t know what I did wrong, but whatever it was, I’m sorry.”

Blaine exhaled sharply. “You honestly don’t know why I’m upset?”

Stay calm, Kurt thought to himself, stay calm. “No, but it would really help if you would tell me.”

“What did you think was wrong that night?” There was no need for Blaine to specify which night. 

“I didn’t know,” Kurt began.

“Yeah, but what did you think?” Blaine insisted. “Because you were definitely thinking something. In addition to the fact that I was too stupid to know which medications I can safely take.”

Kurt opened his mouth, but nothing came out.

“You thought I was trying to kill myself,” Blaine answered for him.

He could feel the hurt and anger in Blaine’s voice, and it made his stomach ache. But Blaine was right, and there was no point lying about it. “Yeah, I did.”

“How do you think that makes me feel?” Blaine asked tightly. “Why would you even think that? Do I seem that unstable to you?”

“No, you don’t, not at all,” Kurt said quickly. “But you called me in the middle of the night, you said you needed help, you were slurring your words and talking about pills… was I so wrong to worry about you?”

“Yes. You were.” Blaine sounded seriously pissed. “The fact that it’s the first thing that jumped into your mind, Kurt, how can I deal with that? How can I believe that we’re going to work if you think I’m potentially going to off myself at any time?”

“I don’t think that, I promise.”

“Could have fooled me.”

Kurt didn’t know what to say. The silence lengthened until he was reminded, horribly, of the fights they used to have before their last break-up. Fights which inevitably led to name calling, door slamming, and one of them sleeping on the couch. 

“I’m not letting us do this,” Kurt said softly. “Not this time.”

“What?”

“I love you more than ever. I need you. I trust you. And I think you feel the same about me.”

Kurt could hear Blaine sniffling, but he didn’t reply. And he thought he knew what was really bothering Blaine.

“You’re mad at yourself, aren’t you? Even more than you’re mad at me.” Because Blaine was quick to forgive Kurt, sometimes probably too quick, but terrible at forgiving himself.

“Why do you say that?” Blaine asked, his voice tight.

“Because when you realized what I was worried about, you knew I wasn’t being wildly unreasonable, given the circumstances.”

“You were wrong,” Blaine insisted.

“I know that now, and I’m beyond grateful.” God, was that true. “And even if you had thought about it, that’s nothing to be ashamed of.” Silence. “I thought about it once, you know.”

“Kurt,” Blaine squeaked out, his voice high and scared.

“It was a long time ago. Before I met you. I’ll tell you about it sometime.”

“I’m so sorry,” Blaine said softly. Kurt wasn’t sure if he meant about Kurt had gone through, or about their current situation, but it really didn’t matter. What mattered now was getting to the bottom of why Blaine was really upset.

“You can’t be mad at yourself for being sick, Blaine. It’s not healthy.”

Blaine made a noise that was an unhappy cross between a laugh and a sob, recognizing the irony in Kurt’s statement. “But it’s never going away. Even with as good as everything has been, getting into school, moving to New York soon, us… it’s always going to be there, wrecking everything.” 

“It’s not wrecking everything,” Kurt said gently. “Nothing is wrecked.”

“Yeah, but I called you up to chat, and you thought I was committing suicide! That’s not okay.”

“No, but it’s not the end of the world, either. We figured it out.” Kurt could hear Blaine crying softly. “Hey, come on. It’s okay, we’re okay. I promise.”

“I was mean to you,” Blaine sniffled.

“You asked for space. That’s not mean. Didn’t I do pretty much the same thing a few weeks ago? At least you were clear about why you needed it. We’re getting better at this.”

“I didn’t say ‘I love you’ back,” Blaine said sadly.

“All right, that wasn’t your best moment. But you asked for space and I pushed, so you pushed back. Again, not the end of the world.” Kurt squeezed his eyes shut, wishing he could take Blaine in his arms. “And I know you love me, even when you are too upset to say it.”

“God, Kurt, I do love you. I do.”

“I love you too, baby.” Kurt sucked in a deep breath, wracking his brain for something to talk about that wasn’t quite so fraught. He knew they might have to come back to this topic eventually, but he thought they could use a break. “So, you never did get around to telling me where you’re going to be living in a few weeks.”

“I didn’t?”

“Nope. Or where Kitty is going to school.”

“Huh.” Kurt could hear Blaine taking a deep breath, and knew he was collecting himself. “She’s going to NYU too. She wants to study journalism.”

“I didn’t realize you could do that at NYU.”

“You can. It’s not a separate school, it’s a concentration in the Arts and Sciences program, so she can figure it out for sure after she gets there.”

Kurt could hear Blaine shuffling around, and hoped that meant he was relaxing a little bit. “It’s neat that you’ll be going to school with Kitty.”

“Actually since I’ll be at Tisch we probably won’t have many classes together. But it’s good to know she’ll be nearby.”

“Is she planning on seeing Artie?”

“I’m not sure. They talked a few times this summer, but she’s a little torn about it. She’s not particularly happy with the way he left things between them when he graduated from McKinley.”

Kurt remembered how much Artie had enjoyed playing the field that first year at film school, complete with numerous posts on Facebook advertising his activities. No, Kitty probably hadn’t cared for that very much. But if they were back in the same city again, who knew what might happen?

Kurt realized that Blaine still hadn’t answered an important question. “Not to change the subject or anything, but I’m dying to know where this apartment is. I mean, anywhere in the tri-state area would work better for us than Ohio, but…”

Blaine chuckled. “It’s actually not far from yours, maybe 4 or 5 blocks? Assuming we get it. There are still a few forms to fill out, but Kitty’s parents are putting up the first and last month’s rent. She says they’re thrilled about me being her roommate and don’t want anything to screw it up.”

“Well, you are a catch,” Kurt said teasingly.

Blaine didn’t reply. Apparently he wasn’t quite recovered from their earlier discussion.

“Speaking of forms,” Kurt said matter of factly, “I assume you’re okay if I put you down as my emergency contact for NYADA?” NYADA insisted on having someone local as an emergency contact; last year Kurt had consumed a whole pint of Ben & Jerry’s (Chunky Monkey, one of Blaine’s favorites) before he finally relented and put Elliott’s name down. Not that he had anything against Elliott. But no matter how much of a rockstar he was, he wasn’t Blaine.

“You’re just trying to make me feel better,” Blaine said, a hint of sadness creeping back into his voice. 

“I did it as soon as you told me you were coming to New York. I just forgot to tell you.” 

“Oh.”

“There’s no one I trust more to help me in a crisis, Blaine.” It was true, even if Blaine didn’t quite trust himself yet. “You are eminently trustworthy. Don’t you think that’s why Kitty’s parents are so glad to have you living with their daughter?”

Blaine wasn’t convinced. “Um, no. It’s because they know gay guys make the best roommates. I’m neat and clean, I know how to cook, and I’m not interested in seeing their daughter naked.”

“Stereotype much?”

“I know you’re glad I’m not rooming with a straight guy.”

Kurt recalled his own thought about smelly feet. “Fine, I stereotype sometimes too. But I bet Kitty smells nicer than Sam.”

“I’m not even going to go there,” Blaine said, laughing.

“I admit it, I’m glad Kitty is going to be your roommate.”

“Really? I didn’t think you liked her very much,” Blaine commented mildly.

Kurt thought back to Blaine’s senior year, visiting the choir room that spring, watching Blaine in his yellow jeans and snug black polo goofing around with Sam and Tina. His memories of Kitty weren’t very prominent, and what memories he had were, well, not altogether positive.

“I think she intimidated me a little bit,” he finally admitted.

“Really?”

“Um, yeah? She was like Santana, but with no weaknesses. A straight, blond, popular cheerleader. Come to think of it, how on earth did you become friends with her?”

Blaine laughed. “Her life hasn’t been as perfect as it might seem. And of course, I was co-captain of the Cheerios the year we met, and she was just an underclassman. She had to listen to me, or I’d put her on the bottom of the pyramid.”

“Would that be so bad?” Kurt let a mischievous tone creep into his voice.

“Kurt! That’s not – that’s not what I meant. Anyway, she weighs like, nothing. She’d get squished.”

“I know, I’m kidding. Anyway, I’m guessing that’s not why she listened to you.”

“What do you mean?”

“She cares about you.”

Blaine harrumphed. “Well, yeah. We’ve been friends for years.”

Kurt marveled at how easily Blaine could say something like that. Making and keeping friends came so naturally to him, he didn’t even notice how wonderful it was.

“You’re lucky to have her.”

“Yeah, I guess I really am.” Blaine paused, and it sounded like he was stifling a yawn. “Kurt, can I ask you something?”

“Of course.” Kurt stretched out his legs and slid down under the covers. “What is it?”

“When I come to New York, I’m starting with a new therapist. Will you, um, will you come with me to meet her?”

“Sure,” Kurt breathed out, surprised. “And you can meet mine. Her name’s Lola – but she’s not a showgirl.”

“Very funny.” Blaine’s voice sounded muffled, like his face was pressed against his pillow. “I didn’t realize you were still seeing someone,” he said softly.

“I am.” Kurt curled up on his side, pulling his extra pillow to his chest. “I don’t think therapy really has an end date for me. It helps me think things through.” 

“Yeah. Me too.”

Kurt didn’t really want to end this conversation, but he was starting to doze, and it sounded like Blaine was, too. “Blaine?”

“Hm?”

“Are you as sleepy as I am?”

“I don’t know, are you really sleepy?”

“Yes.”

“Then yes, I am.”

“Talk more tomorrow?” Kurt asked, holding his breath, hoping things had returned to normal.

“Definitely.” 

Kurt could hear Blaine rolling over and imagined snuggling up behind him, aching to tuck his face into the back of Blaine’s neck and pull him tight against his chest. “I’m going to give you the biggest hug when you get here,” Kurt said softly. “I miss you.”

“I miss you too,” Blaine said fervently. “So much. And I love you like crazy. Even when I’m too upset to say it.”

“I love you like crazy too,” Kurt replied, wondering briefly if “crazy” was an appropriate term to use given their recent conversations.

“It’s okay to say that,” Blaine said, apparently reading Kurt’s mind. “I know I’m not crazy. And it’s just an expression.”

“How did you…?”

“I thought it too. And, well, I used to say that all the time, about lots of things, and I haven’t, because it felt weird.”

“It doesn’t feel weird any more?”

“It feels less weird.”

“That’s good.”

“Yeah.”

Kurt felt himself drifting off, then woke with a start. “Blaine?”

“Mmm?”

“You still awake?”

“Um, I can be.”

“I have to tell you something before I get off the phone. I should have said it before, and I don’t want to upset you, but…”

“What is it?” 

Kurt sucked in a deep breath. He had this thought so many times over the past few days, and he had to say it. He had to make sure Blaine heard it. “Whether or not you ever considered… doing something… just, I’m so glad you’re alive. So very glad. I don’t want a world without you in it, okay?”

“Kurt,” Blaine breathed out. “I don’t want a world without you, either.”

“That works out well, then.”

“Yeah,” Blaine said softly. “It really does.”


	18. Chapter 18

_August, 2015 – Part III_

Blaine jumped out of the car as Kitty lined it up next to a parked truck, preparing for her third try at parallel parking her mother’s family-friendly mini-van into a space which Blaine was certain was entirely too small. 

Kitty opened the window and rolled her eyes at Blaine. “Stop making faces and go say hi to your man. I’ll be there in a minute.”

Grinning, Blaine gave her a quick salute, and headed off down the street. It felt amazing to be here again, even if New York City wasn’t at its best in August. He ignored the sweat already dripping down his back as he rounded the corner and saw Kurt standing by the stoop of his building, looking off into the distance. Blaine paused to take in the sight of his beautiful boyfriend. This was really happening. He was back in New York, with Kurt, and this time he was here to stay. 

Kurt was as breathtaking as ever, looking lithe and slim in skinny brown pants and a turquoise short-sleeve button up shirt, his hair swooped high on his head, apparently impervious to the heat. Blaine continued down the sidewalk, enjoying the view. When he was just a few feet away Kurt turned towards him, and his face lit up. 

“Blaine!” Kurt threw his arms around him and held him tight, digging his face into his neck. “You’re here! I can’t believe you’re finally here.”

Blaine felt as if his smile was cracking his face open. “I know, I can’t believe it either.” He pulled back and gazed at Kurt, whose eyes were ridiculously blue and wide with happiness. 

“Where’s Kitty?” Kurt looked behind Blaine, keeping his arms wrapped around Blaine’s shoulders.

“Parking, or trying to. She didn’t want to double park, so we’re going to have to drag all our stuff down the block.”

Kurt shrugged. “We’ll manage.”

Blaine laughed. “You really don’t mind?” 

“Honestly, you could tell me I had to crab walk backwards with your suitcases balanced on my nose and I wouldn’t care very much right now.” 

Blaine pressed a kiss to Kurt’s lips and bounced a little, taking his hand and pulling him up the stairs of the brownstone. “Let’s go see if my keys work, and maybe we can find a dolly or something to help with the luggage.”

*****

Several hours later, camped out on the floor with the empty boxes from their delivery pizza and fried mozzarella sticks surrounding them, the doorbell rang.

“Expecting visitors?” Kurt asked, raising an eyebrow, but Blaine just smiled. Kitty jumped up to get the door, grimacing as she looked over her wrinkled pink tank top and ripped denim shorts. 

“You look fine,” Blaine said encouragingly.

“Yeah, for someone who has spent the last two days in a car,” she grumbled, straightening her shoulders and tossing her hair. 

“Why do I get the feeling she knows who’s at the door?” Kurt asked.

“Just wait for it,” Blaine said. 

They couldn’t help but stare as Kitty opened the door to reveal none other than Artie Abrams, holding a riotous bouquet of flowers and tilting his head hopefully. “Hi Kitty.” Artie peeked around the bouquet to see Blaine and Kurt sitting on the floor. “Hi guys.” He held out the bouquet towards Kitty, who just folded her arms. “These are for you – for both of you.” Artie looked over at Blaine, nodding at him. “To, you know, welcome you to New York. Or, uh, back to New York.”

Blaine jumped up, taking the flowers and giving Artie a quick hug. “Thanks, Artie. It’s nice of you to come by, but we literally just got here a few hours ago. We’ve actually got a lot of unpacking left to do.” He glanced at Kitty, trying to judge her reaction to their surprise guest. He didn’t have any problem with telling Artie to give her some space tonight, if that’s what she wanted.

Artie looked disappointed, but didn’t give up. “Maybe you’d like to take a break, get dinner?” Their heads all swiveled to stare at the pizza boxes on the floor. “Or ice cream?” He gazed at Kitty hopefully.

“He does that puppy dog eye thing almost as well as you,” Kurt commented under his breath to Blaine, who fluttered his eyelashes at Kurt in response.

Kitty sighed, and then relented. “Fine. If this is going to happen, however, it’s not going to happen with me in these stinky clothes. Find us a place to have dessert. I’ll be in the shower.” 

Blaine thought this would have been a more powerful exit if Kitty didn’t have to come back into the living room twice to find her toiletries and then some clean clothes, but he gave her points for trying. In the meantime, he and Kurt caught up with Artie, who was impressed to hear what Kurt’s newest project was.

“Congrats, my man,” Artie exclaimed. “You get to direct a play at NYADA on their main stage? How did you swing that?”

“After Kurt won NYADA’s new young playwright award, they could hardly say no,” Blaine said proudly, putting a hand on Kurt’s shoulder as he blushed furiously. 

“You did what? That’s amazing!” Artie exclaimed, as Kurt waved him off and began picking up the pizza boxes.

“It’s not that big a deal,” Kurt said, ducking his head as Artie followed him into the kitchen.

“Um, yeah, it is,” Blaine corrected, sliding up next to Kurt. “It’s one of the most prestigious honors a first time playwright can earn. It’s not limited to NYADA students, either.” 

“When did you have time to write a play?” Artie asked. “I thought you were working with those senior citizens this year.”

“I had a lot of ideas that just wouldn’t fit my cast,” Kurt explained. “I had to put them somewhere.”

Kitty soon joined them in the kitchen, rubbing her wet hair with a towel as she spoke. “Blaine, we have to talk to the landlord about the water pressure. As in, there isn’t any.”

Blaine nodded, searching through the odds and ends on the counter to add this concern to the list he was making. It was getting long.

“Kurt was just telling us about the play he wrote,” Artie said, turning to include Kitty in the conversation.

“Let me guess – it’s the story of two boys who fall in love when they meet at a show choir competition?” Kitty asked teasingly.

“No,” Blaine chided, “It’s about a modern day group of high school kids who are studying the civil rights movement, and they decide to put on a play about the Little Rock Nine – the black students who were the first to attend classes at a white high school in Arkansas after the court in _Brown v. Board of Education_ ordered that the schools be integrated,” Blaine explained.

“Huh. That’s the girl in the famous photograph, right? Walking up to the school with the crowd of angry white people behind her?” Kitty asked.

Blaine nodded. “Yup.” 

Kitty looked over to where Kurt was concentrating on lining up a group of mugs in an empty cabinet, making sure all the handles were facing the same direction. “Nice work,” she said, handing him another mug from the box on the floor.

Blaine wasn’t sure if Kitty meant the play or the mugs, but he saw Kurt’s bashful smile, and figured it didn’t much matter either way.

By the time they finally made it out the door it was late, the heat of the day having been replaced by a slightly cooler evening breeze. They argued for a while about where to go, Kitty shaking her head at them. “I told you to pick out a place while I was in the shower,” she grumbled, but she cheered up when presented with the option to dip a gelato popsicle in a variety of delicious toppings. After she decided on chocolate with chopped pistachios and more chocolate, Kurt led them to a soft-serve shop that offered tangy goat’s milk ice cream. “Try the vanilla with orange blossom,” he urged Artie, who made a face at this suggestion and ordered salted caramel. Blaine selected cardamom with dates and halvah sprinkled on top, and stood happily on the street exchanging spoonfuls with Kurt. 

On the way back to the apartment, Blaine and Kurt trailed behind Artie and Kitty, their hands clasped together and swinging gently between them, at least until Kurt’s phone buzzed and he had to dig it out of his pocket to answer it. It had been a perfect day, and Blaine was looking forward to what he was hoping would be a perfect night. They hadn’t had a sleepover since they began actually dating again. Although they probably could have found a time during Kurt’s visit to Lima, Blaine had decided that he wanted to wait for the privacy of their New York apartments, and Kurt had agreed. But now Blaine was finally here, and he couldn’t wait to curl up in bed next to Kurt. The opportunity to do more than sleep was appealing, as well.

“Penny for your thoughts?” 

Blaine blushed at Kurt’s question, and bit his lip, grinning. “Just that I’m really looking forward to not having to say goodnight tonight.”

Kurt’s expression froze. “Um, actually, I’ve got to go home tonight.”

Blaine waited for Kurt to invite him back to his place, or explain, but Kurt just stuck his hands in his pockets and kept walking. Blaine blinked hard, a tight ball forming in his stomach. He nearly crashed into Artie when the group came to a stop in front of his building. Before he knew it Kurt and Artie were saying their goodbyes, Kurt giving him a quick hug and a pleading look before heading off down the street.

“Trouble in paradise?” Kitty asked as they climbed the stairs. “I thought for sure you guys would be having a reunion of the intimate variety tonight.”

Blaine just shrugged, but he knew he wasn’t hiding anything from Kitty. 

“Hey, don’t go jumping to conclusions,” she warned. “Talk to him before you freak out, okay?”

Blaine busied himself making his bed, trying to take Kitty’s advice. So what if he had gone to the extra effort of having the bedroom furniture delivered the day before so that he and Kurt would have somewhere comfortable to sleep tonight – it would be just as comfortable another night. And at least he and Kitty didn’t have to sleep on the floor.

When he finally slipped under the covers, Kitty appeared at his door with her iPad. “There’s a new season of _Submissions Only_ on Youtube. Want to watch?” 

Blaine nodded, and Kitty climbed up next to him. “How did you know I liked that show?” he asked. Broadway wasn’t exactly Kitty’s style.

“Come on, I have been paying attention,” she said matter of factly. “Besides, Santino Fontana is adorable.”

*****

The next morning Blaine checked his phone, hoping to see a message from Kurt explaining what had happened the night before. Finding none, he and Kitty decided that they didn’t feel like unpacking, and instead wasted a few hours online looking at living room furniture. The fact that they had to sit on the hardwood floor while engaged in this activity was excellent motivation. They had narrowed it down to five choices (three of which were actually in their price range) when Kitty’s phone buzzed.

“It’s Artie,” she reported, looking at the text. “He wants to meet for lunch. Want to come?”

Blaine hesitated, and Kitty frowned at him. “You’re not going to spend all day hoping that lover boy stops by, are you? Have you even talked to him about this yet?”

Blaine sighed. “No. I keep hoping he’ll call me. I mean, I thought he’d come over and help me unpack today.”

“Did he say he would?”

Blaine wracked his brain, trying to pin down the conversation. “Maybe? He definitely said not to make plans for tonight.”

Kitty rolled her eyes, but her expression was more sympathetic than anything else. She pushed herself up from the floor and held a hand out to Blaine. “In the meantime, come drown your sorrows in a greasy hamburger. Or, you know, a salad with tofu, or whatever your comfort food is these days.”

Blaine just shook his head. “I wouldn’t be good company. Go have fun with Artie.”

After Kitty left, Blaine went into his bedroom and tried to focus on organizing his clothes, but Kurt had already hung everything up the day before. There wasn’t much point in changing Kurt’s system, it would just make him twitch. Blaine flopped down on his bed, trying to figure out what to do. He was afraid to text Kurt, figuring that he’d get back a bland response that wouldn’t solve the problem anyway. He knew he wasn’t going to feel better until he felt Kurt’s arms around him, telling him that it was all a misunderstanding, that of course Kurt was glad he was finally here, that he wanted nothing more than to cuddle up in bed with him. That everything was okay. No text message was going to solve this problem.

Finally Blaine gave up. He checked his hair in the bathroom mirror, grabbed his wallet, and headed out. He took the list of things they needed for the apartment, figuring maybe he could do something productive instead of just moping.

Despite his best intentions, Blaine wasn’t surprised when he found himself outside Kurt’s building, conveniently located between his own apartment and the hardware store he had theoretically been aiming for. His decision was made for him when a woman with a baby in her arms approached the door, struggling to get her key out of her bag – it would have just looked odd if Blaine didn’t go inside too, after helping her get the door open. Taking a few deep breaths, he plastered a smile on his face and went up the stairs. He could hear music coming from Kurt’s place. Luckily it wasn’t too loud for Kurt to hear him, as he appeared at the door soon after Blaine rang the bell.

“Blaine, hi,” Kurt said, his eyes darting back and forth as he slipped out in the hallway with Blaine, swiftly closing the door behind him. Kurt gave him an awkward hug, then stepped away. “What brings you here?”

Blaine could feel his throat closing up and hoped he didn’t look as disappointed as he felt about Kurt’s lukewarm welcome. “I was on my way to the store and thought I’d stop by and say hello,” he said lamely. 

Kurt just pressed his lips together and took Blaine’s arm, walking him towards the stairs. “Oh? What are you shopping for? I’d come with and help out, but I’m cleaning today,” Kurt babbled unconvincingly.

Blaine stopped and turned towards Kurt. “What’s going on?” 

Kurt’s eyes widened as he shook his head. “Nothing. Why do you ask?” His voice had that squeak it got when he was nervous.

Blaine willed his own voice to remain steady. “You didn’t want to be with me last night, you didn’t want to hang out today, and now you won’t even let me in your apartment. I just got here and…” he swallowed hard, “you don’t even want me around. After everything you said… I think at least I deserve an explanation.”

Kurt’s face fell, and he reached out and grabbed Blaine’s hand. “Come here.” He tugged Blaine back down the hall and into his apartment, which looked like a glitter bomb had hit it. There was a “welcome home” banner hung across the windows, and streamers were strung from the bookshelves.

“Kurt?” Blaine turned to him, realization slowly dawning. “What is all this?”

“I’m throwing you a surprise party tonight,” Kurt said sadly. “You guys were supposed to get to the city today, not yesterday, so I figured I’d have all day to decorate. Rachel got in late last night.” Kurt grabbed his iPod from a side table and turned off the music.

“Rachel’s here?” Blaine asked.

“Hiding in the bedroom!” Rachel yelled. “Love you, Blaine! Don’t mind me!”

“So, last night-”

“She couldn’t find the spare key, so I had to come home and let her in. And I had already started baking-” Kurt tilted his head towards his tiny kitchen, where Blaine could see plates of wrapped cookies, “so you couldn’t come back here with me. Plus, you know, Rachel was here, so…”

“I can hear you!” Rachel yelled again.

Blaine sighed and sat down on Kurt’s couch, pressing his hands against his thighs and waiting for his racing heartbeat to return to normal.

Kurt sat down gingerly next to him, a concerned look on his face. “I’m sorry,” he said softly. “I could tell you were upset last night, and I should have told you what was going on.”

Blaine nodded tightly. “You really should have.”

“But the party will still be fun, right?” Kurt asked hopefully.

Blaine fought the urge to tell Kurt what he wanted to hear, and shook his head. “No party is worth how awful I’ve felt over the past day,” he said finally. “Maybe someone else would find this amusing, but… you know me. And you realized I was upset and yet you didn’t say anything, you just left me standing there…” Blaine stopped talking and squeezed his eyes shut, tilting his head back and trying not to cry. He was thoroughly sick of crying, and he was sick of being worried about how Kurt felt about him. How could this still be happening?

“You’re right. I’m really sorry,” Kurt said again, sliding closer to Blaine on the couch and resting a hand on his arm. “Could I interest you in a cookie? I made all your favorites.”

“I’m not hungry,” Blaine said, mentally berating himself for the petulant tone he couldn’t seem to keep out of his voice. He needed to get a grip. Kurt was trying throw him a surprise party, for god’s sake.

They sat there in silence for a few minutes, until Rachel startled them both by plunking herself down on the coffee table in front of them, her knees knocking against theirs. “Boys, we need to talk.”

“Rachel, I’m not sure you have anything to contribute to this,” Kurt began, but Rachel just waved her hand at him and continued.

“Of course I do. Are you two the only people in the world to have had a hard year? Is Blaine the only person ever to have to figure out how to put himself back together after a defeat? To return to the scene of the crime, so to speak, and find a way to do it right this time?”

Blaine shook his head and Kurt did too, and Blaine almost laughed at how quickly they obeyed Rachel. She went on, sitting up straight and speaking matter of factly. “So you had a bit of a miscommunication. So Blaine spent his first night back in the city crying instead of celebrating.” Ouch, that was kind of harsh, Blaine thought. Although sort of true.

Kurt sucked in a deep breath at this, and grabbed at Blaine’s hand. “I’m sorry-”

“I’m talking now,” Rachel interrupted him. “Hold the apologies for a minute, you said it already anyway. Blaine, did it occur to you to call Kurt last night and ask him what was going on? Talk to him about it instead of freaking out?”

“Um..." Funny, that’s what Kitty said, too, he thought.

“Right. And you guys didn’t talk to each other this morning, did you?”

Again, they both shook their heads.

“So now you, Blaine, are beating yourself up for getting upset over nothing – well, not nothing, but not what you thought – and Kurt is beating himself up for ignoring the consequences of his actions and inadvertently hurting Blaine’s feelings in the process. Have I summed it up correctly?”

Blaine nodded. “But it’s not nothing. I felt awful. And I thought Kurt understood…”

“Understood what? That he shouldn’t hurt your feelings? I’m fairly certain he does. But he also can’t read your mind, right?”

“He knew I was upset.”

“And so did you, and you didn’t say anything to him.”

“I just feel like we’re not getting anywhere. Like we’re having the same misunderstandings, over and over. What’s the point?” Blaine could barely look at Kurt as he said this, but he could feel Kurt’s hand shaking in his.

Rachel leaned forward and took their joined hands in hers, holding them securely together. “The point is,” she said gently, “that you love each other. You really love each other. You and Kurt are different than you were before, and you’re still learning how to be together. But you are so very lucky to have each other to love. Don’t forget that.”

Rachel patted their hands and then let go, picking up her handbag from where it hung in the entryway. “I’ll be back later,” she said with a sad smile, the apartment door closing behind her with a sharp click.

Blaine closed his eyes and concentrated on the feel of Kurt’s hand, still holding his, and gave it a squeeze. He opened his eyes to see Kurt staring at him. “Did I screw it all up?” Kurt asked anxiously.

“No, no, of course you didn’t,” Blaine said, surging forward to wrap his arms around Kurt. “You were just trying to do something nice for me. Something really nice, and I --”

“You reacted exactly the same way I would have reacted if I were in your position,” Kurt said firmly, pulling Blaine tightly against him. “I love you, and I’m so very happy you’re here with me. I’m sorry I was an idiot.”

“You’re not an idiot,” Blaine mumbled against Kurt’s neck. “And I love you, too.”

“Forgive me?” Kurt asked, pulling back to look at Blaine.

Blaine shrugged. “I don’t know. I might.”

“You might?” Kurt looked confused.

“Depends upon what kind of cookies you made.”

*****

The party that night was a huge success. When Kurt’s apartment filled up with guests they all went up to the roof deck, which Rachel and Elliott had decorated with strings of sparkling white fairy lights and brightly colored cloths draped over small tables. Blaine bounced on his toes when he saw it, grabbing Kurt’s face with both hands and kissing him soundly.

Artie took on the role of DJ while Kitty gathered names for karaoke, wrinkling her nose at Rachel when she insisted on singing “Don’t You Want Me” with Blaine. “It was the beginning of our beautiful friendship as duet partners,” Rachel explained, and Blaine giggled at the memory. Blaine talked Kurt into doing a Betty Who song with him, and then they danced along as their friends performed, Elliott specifically thanking Blaine for inspiring him to keep nurturing his inner glitter rock vampire.

When it was time for the cake – a fluffy lemon confection with lavender infused frosting that was just right for the hot summer night – Blaine announced Kurt’s playwriting award to the crowd, and they both stood with their arms around each other as their friends sang out congratulations. Blaine was so proud of Kurt, and couldn’t believe he hadn’t told anyone else about his play and upcoming directorial debut at NYADA. Sometimes Kurt still didn’t see himself as someone with friends who cared enough about him to want to hear about his life, despite the obvious evidence to the contrary tonight.

Wes appeared halfway through the evening with Miri on his arm. She rolled her eyes fondly at Wes as he told Blaine all about the internship he would be starting at a prominent New York City law firm during his upcoming year of law school. Miri pulled Blaine aside after a few minutes, leaving Wes to talk with Rachel, and looked appraisingly at Blaine. “Things going well?” she asked simply, taking in Blaine’s wide smile and the way he couldn’t help trading glances with Kurt even when they were involved in conversations with totally different groups of people.

“Yeah,” he said. “They really are.”

Elliott spent a few minutes giving Blaine and Kitty some pointers on NYU, and promised them a full tutorial on all things school-related later that week. It was nice to catch up with Elliott, although Blaine saw Artie giving Elliott the evil eye when he started telling Kitty about a journalism class he had taken. He knew all about being jealous of Elliott – he’d have to chat with Artie later and encourage him not to worry too much.

As the night wore on, the roof deck emptied out, although Artie and Kitty were still messing around with the sound system, playing slow, heated jazz tunes that echoed in the warm night. Blaine spotted Kurt off to the side, gazing out over the city. He came up behind him, putting his arms around Kurt’s waist and tucking his chin over his neck.

“Thank you for my party,” Blaine said softly. But Kurt was stiff in his arms, still worried, Blaine thought, about their fight earlier that day. “Hey, it’s okay.” Blaine turned Kurt to face him, and caught his gaze. Yup, still worried.

“Did you have fun?” Kurt asked, searching his eyes.

“I did. It was the most amazing welcome home party ever,” Blaine said firmly. “And you know the best part?”

“What?”

“It really does feel like home.” Blaine gently put a hand to Kurt’s cheek and pressed a kiss to his lips, deepening it when he finally felt Kurt respond. Blaine swayed closer to him, lacing his arms around Kurt’s shoulders, and sighing when Kurt put his arms around his waist and pulled him close. “You feel like home, too,” Blaine whispered happily, nuzzling against Kurt’s neck. “Come on, let’s go inside.”

Kurt pulled back, looking at the empty bowls of pretzels, dirty plates, and plastic cups scattered around the deck. “Um, what about…?”

“Kitty and Artie are taking care of it. And Rachel’s going to stay at my place tonight.” Blaine raised his eyebrows at Kurt’s astonished look. “What? I can’t make some plans too?”

Kurt blinked, and then a small smile crept over his face. “You, my dearest love, can absolutely make some plans,” Kurt said, his voice going low as he turned Blaine towards the door with a hand on the small of his back. “Generally speaking, I very much like your plans.”

“I thought you might.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> You can dip gelato popsicles at Popbar, and get goat’s milk ice cream at Victory Garden, both in NYC’s West Village. _Submissions Only_ is a comedy web series about the casting and audition process for Broadway, starring Kate Weatherhead, with cameo appearances by numerous Broadway actors – it’s clever, dry, and apparently very realistic, and I highly recommend it. Read about the Little Rock Nine and see the photograph mentioned above at http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Elizabeth_Eckford. As for the song Kurt and Blaine sing at the party, of course it’s Somebody Loves You by Betty Who.


	19. Chapter 19

_September, 2015_

“Shit,” Kurt cursed, stubbing his toe on his dresser as he dashed around the bedroom, trying to get ready for his date with Blaine. He perched on the edge of the bed, clutching his foot in his hand and waiting for the pain to pass. He didn’t have time for this. 

It had been a long, stressful day, at the end of a difficult week. In addition to everything else that came with the start of the semester, for the last three nights Kurt had held auditions for his play. The task had been made even more daunting by the fact that his stage manager withdrew at the last minute, and her replacement seemed entirely unfamiliar with the concept of constructive criticism, making everyone around him cringe every time he opened his mouth. Not to mention that some of the most talented actors at NYADA were also the most unpleasant to deal with, and hounded Kurt all week long with their requests and demands. No, he couldn’t reschedule the callbacks just because you have a voice lesson tonight, he had told one student, pretending not to hear when she muttered “tightass” at him as he walked away.

Kurt gave his throbbing toe one last squeeze and went to his closet. He put on and discarded several options – it was still too warm out for his favorite outfits, but they were going to a Picasso exhibit at the Museum of Modern Art and then out to dinner, and he wanted to look appropriately fashion forward. But his turquoise button up was too summery, and the animal print pullover too casual… He sighed, running a hand over his head, and then realized he hadn’t finished doing his hair yet, either.

Kurt was still standing in front of his mirror, clad only in his boxers and a t-shirt, when he heard the front door open. _No, it can’t possibly be six o’clock already,_ he told himself, but a quick glance at the clock on his nightstand confirmed that indeed it was.

“Hey there,” Blaine said cheerily, giving Kurt a broad smile and holding out a bouquet of sunflowers. He looked radiant, still glowing with a summer tan. His simple black suit jacket, pink shirt open at the neck and dark jeans were the perfect ensemble for their evening. Inexplicably, Kurt felt his throat close up, and he began to babble as Blaine approached him.

“I’m sorry, I… I need a few minutes, I’m not ready. I couldn’t find…”

Before he knew it, Blaine’s arms were around him, the plastic wrapping of the flowers crinkling against his back as Blaine held him and pressed a kiss to his cheek. “It’s all right, we have plenty of time.”

Kurt pulled away and shook his head, grabbing one of the shirts he had discarded earlier. “Just give me a second, I…”

Blaine set the flowers down on the dresser and came closer, but Kurt couldn’t look at him. He was focused on the shirt in his hand, he couldn’t leave it just lying around, but he couldn’t seem to straighten it out, one sleeve remaining stubbornly twisted. Blaine gently took the shirt from him and hung it up in his closet – how did he do that? Kurt thought – and then turned back to Blaine, who was looking at him curiously.

“What? My hair is awful, isn’t it?” He glanced in the mirror. “I can fix it, as soon as I get dressed…”

“Kurt,” Blaine said softly, taking his hand, “slow down.”

He blinked at Blaine, not understanding. “We have to leave right now or we won’t make it in time, the exhibit takes at least two hours to see it properly, and our dinner reservation is at nine.” He felt almost dizzy as he tried to explain this to Blaine, and went on. “That’s what we planned, it will still work out, I’ll just throw something on and we can go. It’ll be fine, just let me get dressed, I won’t take long.”

Blaine just stared back at him, his lips pressed together and a concerned look in his eyes. Kurt tried to reach around Blaine to find another top, but Blaine wouldn’t get out of his way. Blaine took his hand again, firmly, and tugged Kurt over to the bed.

“Blaine, now is not the time-”

“Be quiet for a minute, sweetheart,” Blaine said gently, leaning against the bed and pulling Kurt to his chest. 

“Blaine-”

“Shh, just a minute, okay? Just stay here for a minute, and then we’ll talk.”

Even a minute was too long to delay at this point, but Blaine had his arms wrapped around him and was rubbing circles on his back, and Kurt couldn’t bring himself to move away. Slowly, something stuttered and loosened inside him as Blaine continued to run his hands over his back, his hands warm through the thin fabric of his t-shirt. Kurt let his head fall to Blaine’s shoulder and draped his arms around his waist, inhaling Blaine’s cologne and the smell of his skin. The feel of Blaine’s breath on his neck was warm and familiar, and he found himself matching his breathing to Blaine’s, calm and steady. 

Kurt didn’t protest when Blaine scooted back up on to the bed, pulling Kurt after him until he was curled up next to him, his head on Blaine’s chest and his bare knee resting on Blaine’s jean-clad thigh. The feeling of Blaine’s fingers carding through his hair was soothing, and he closed his eyes and let himself drift.

He didn’t know how much time had gone by when he came to himself again, raising his head to see Blaine looking at him with a soft smile. “Blaine? We, um, we need to go, don’t we?”

Blaine pressed a quick kiss to Kurt’s forehead. “We’re not going.”

“We’re not?” Maybe he had fallen asleep for a little while, but surely they could still get dinner. “Why?” he asked, his head still a little foggy.

“It’s not what you need tonight.” 

Kurt stared at Blaine, his face so beautiful and full of love. It all seemed so perfectly clear now. And there was no point in arguing. Blaine was right, god, he was _so_ right. Kurt let out a shuddering breath and fell back on to Blaine’s chest, snuggling up close to him and burying his face in his neck. “Thank you.”

“For what?”

“For noticing. For stopping me from, I don’t know, whatever was going on there.”

Blaine huffed out a soft laugh. “I may be oblivious at times, but you weren’t particularly hard to read tonight.” He shifted on to his side to gaze at Kurt. “I love you, you know.”

Kurt smiled. “I love you too.” He put his hand on Blaine’s chest, tracing a finger under his open collar. “You look great, by the way. I’m sorry I made you wrinkle your outfit.”

“You know, they have these things called irons…”

“Fine. But still, I’m sorry about our plans.”

“Kurt,” Blaine said firmly, raising up on an elbow. “I could care less about the exhibit, and another dinner out, and the state of my wardrobe.” He shrugged out of his jacket and tossed it towards Kurt’s desk chair. “Not when you’re feeling like this.”

Kurt flopped over on to his back, throwing his arm over his eyes. “I like knowing what’s going to happen.” He lifted his arm and peeked out at Blaine. “I may have some trouble with change.”

Blaine’s mouth twitched up at the corner, but thankfully he didn’t actually laugh. “I know,” he said softly. “It’s okay.” He shifted a little, a look of concern clear on his face. “Maybe you can tell me what got you so worked up before?”

Kurt really didn’t want to bother Blaine with this, but he probably wasn’t going to get away without explaining his behavior. “It’s not a big deal, it’s just… I don’t know what to do. I need to make a decision about the cast by tomorrow, and I can’t seem to keep a single thought in my head, let alone assign parts.” He sighed and turned his head to look at Blaine. “But tonight is for us, you don’t need to hear about all this.”

An exasperated look flitted across Blaine’s face, and he put a hand gently to Kurt’s cheek, stroking a thumb along his collarbone. “I know you’re having trouble getting this because you are exhausted and stressed, and that’s okay. Let me spell it out for you.”

“Blaine, what are you talking about?”

Blaine gazed at Kurt intently. “We are going to cuddle for a little bit while we wait for our food to come – I’m thinking something mild, maybe Japanese, soba noodles, veggies and broth, if that sounds good to you. Then after we eat – because really, I’m guessing you haven’t eaten properly in days – we’ll tackle casting.”

Suddenly this seemed like the most rational solution in the world, and the most wonderful. “Really? You’ll help me figure it out?” Kurt could almost feel the weight lifting from his chest.

Blaine just raised an eyebrow, the “duh” not even needing to be said.

Kurt felt tears gather in his eyes, and swallowed hard. “I don’t know what to say,” he whispered, snuggling back down against Blaine. He was overwhelmed, Blaine’s care for him as tangible as the blanket Blaine pulled up over them as they pressed themselves together.

“Just tell me if you want chicken or shrimp tempura in your soup,” Blaine said lightly, grabbing his phone from the nightstand with one hand, while keeping his other arm wrapped around Kurt’s shoulders. “We’ll worry about the rest of it after dinner.”

*****

Several hours later, they had cleaned up from their meal and were perched on the couch, headshots of the NYADA students who had tried out for Kurt’s play and his notes from their auditions arranged in front of them on the coffee table. Kurt was feeling more human that he had in days, and the fact that he had on Blaine’s old Dalton sweatshirt and a pair of comfy yoga pants didn’t hurt, either. Even Kurt could admit that there were times that comfort was more important than fashion.

“All right, one down,” Blaine said, making a note on the laptop. “Congratulations, you’ve cast your male lead. Now, tell me about your options for the female lead.”

Kurt sighed. “This is where I get stuck, every time.”

“Oh?”

“Katie would be great at it. But she’s also the best person for the sassy girl – no one else can play that kind of role like she can. She’s got the best comic timing of anyone who auditioned.”

“And you have other possibilities for the female lead?”

“Yeah, two, actually. But Katie may actually kill me if I cast her in the comic role. She told me straight out that she would rather have a different part, even a smaller one.” Kurt had a lot of respect for Katie, and thought she was going to be a very successful actress one day. And she wasn’t one of those hateful super divas that NYADA seemed to be full of. 

“Do you have other options for the sassy girl?”

“Sure, but Katie would be the best.” Kurt sighed. “I don’t know what to do.”

“Well, what’s your goal for the play?”

Kurt cocked his head at Blaine, who was sitting so carefully on the edge of the couch, balancing the computer on his lap, not even realizing how adorable he looked in his now very wrinkled pink shirt, his top several buttons undone and his sleeves rolled up. “What do you mean?” Maybe Kurt was just distracted by Blaine’s cuteness, but he wasn’t following. “Obviously I want it to be great.”

“Of course you do.” Blaine smiled at him. “But do you want to find the very best person for each part, like a professional production, or is there an educational purpose for the students as well?”

Kurt thought he knew where Blaine was going with this. “Tell me more.”

Blaine shifted the laptop to the table and crossed his legs, turning to face Kurt. “I had the same challenge with the Warblers. For a lot of years they were run like a professional team – if you had one person who was clearly the best at solos, he would get all the solos. Why not put your best foot forward, right?”

“The era of Blaine and the pips,” Kurt said, grinning.

“Exactly,” Blaine agreed, with a slightly embarrassed smile. “Some people believe that’s the right way to do it, even in an educational setting. It rewards merit, arguably drives people to excel, and in theory, helps you win competitions. Look at Vocal Adrenaline – they feature the same soloist in every performance.”

“True.” Kurt thought back to the Warblers’ performance at Nationals, and the variety of singers they showcased. “You don’t think that’s the right way to do it, though.”

“Not for a high school group. I struggled with it, a little bit, especially when it came to competitions. But I thought that by letting lots of kids have a chance at solos, and designing arrangements with multiple featured singers, more kids would learn to excel at taking the lead, not just the one who did it over and over. The kids would have a better educational opportunity, and we’d be a stronger team.”

“And you still won Sectionals, and Regionals, and placed in the top five at Nationals.”

Blaine ducked his head, a proud smile on his face. “We did.”

Kurt couldn’t resist leaning over and pressing a quick kiss to Blaine’s lips. “You’re the cutest, you know. And a show choir genius.”

Blaine just blushed and shook his head. “I’m not.”

“You are. But let’s see how we can apply this genius to my current problem.” Kurt straightened up and picked up Katie’s headshot. “Katie’s definitely the best choice for the sassy girl. But she’s played that type of role a dozen times, and if I cast her in it again, not only will she be mad at me, but she’ll never learn how to play any other roles.”

“And you never know, she might turn out to be the very best female lead, too.”

Kurt nodded. “But if I give Caroline the sassy girl, the part might not come off as I imagined it.”

“Maybe you can coach her through it? Or maybe her take on it will be just as good, even if different.”

“Caroline could learn how to play that type of role, and next time, be competition for Katie!”

Blaine smiled at Kurt’s enthusiasm. “But you’re only directing one play, not coaching the Warblers through an entire season. Caroline’s improvement doesn’t necessarily make this one play more successful.”

Kurt grinned at Blaine. “I don’t know, I might very well direct more than one play.” He fell back against the couch as Blaine tackled him, wrapping his arms around him and planting a sloppy kiss on his cheek, then rising up on an elbow to meet his eyes.

“Mr. Hummel, is it true that you owe your string of directing successes to your uncanny ability to nurture young actors?” Blaine joked.

“That and my vast experience with show choir,” Kurt laughed. “And don’t forget my partnership with my very sexy boyfriend.” Blaine beamed and leaned down to kiss Kurt again, properly on the lips this time, and Kurt shifted to wrap an arm around his shoulders and pull him close. As the kiss deepened, however, they both started to giggle, and soon Blaine pulled back, gazing at Kurt.

“We really should finish casting your show, shouldn’t we?” he asked, smiling.

“We really should,” Kurt agreed, pushing Blaine up to a sitting position and following suit. “Put Katie down as the female lead, and let’s talk about who we’ve got for the teacher.”

After the main parts were cast the rest seemed to fall into place, and before he knew it Kurt was posting the cast list to the NYADA website. “I can’t believe that’s done,” he said, closing the laptop with a sigh. Just a few hours ago he had been dreading this process, figuring it would haunt him all night and eat up his entire Saturday. But now he was free, thanks in very large part to Blaine’s help. If he wasn’t still so tired, he’d be cheering with excitement.

Blaine gathered the headshots into a neat pile, slid them into a folder, and then stood and stretched, his shirt pulling attractively over the muscles in his shoulders. “Not bad for a night’s work.” Blaine rubbed his palms on his jeans, and Kurt saw his gaze flicker hesitantly towards the door. It was late, and their task was clearly completed.

“Blaine?” Kurt stood, taking Blaine’s hand. “Stay with me?”

They hadn’t planned on a sleepover tonight. They had been taking things relatively slow, and Kurt didn’t want to assume that after every date they were going to end up in the bedroom, although of course he loved it when they did. Kurt knew they had to have interests and friends of their own, and for now that meant some nights and mornings apart, even if part of him longed to spend every minute of every day with Blaine. But after the emotional rollercoaster of this evening, there was nothing he wanted more than to curl up in the comfort of Blaine’s arms and drift off to sleep, safe and loved. 

Blaine was looking undecided, however. Kurt gave his hand a squeeze. “You got me through this mess, don’t abandon me now,” he encouraged him. 

Blaine chuckled softly, his lovely eyes coming up to meet Kurt’s. “I thought you had to get up early tomorrow to work on the play?” This was classic Blaine – he didn’t want to do what would make him happy because he thought it was going to put Kurt out.

“You see, that’s the beauty of this situation – we just did all the work I thought I had to do tomorrow.”

“Yeah?” Blaine said hopefully, the corner of his mouth curling up in a smile. “So we could sleep in?” 

“We could sleep in,” Kurt confirmed. “And have pancakes.”

“If I make them,” Blaine said wryly, raising an eyebrow.

“Well, yeah, you make the best pancakes.” Kurt tugged on Blaine’s hand, moving them towards his bedroom. “Come on, I’ll find you something to wear to bed.” He paused, turning to face Blaine and gazing intently into his honey eyes. “Honestly, I just can’t stand the thought of not being with you right now.” The words just fell out of his mouth, and Kurt hoped it wasn’t too much.

But based on the smile that spread across Blaine’s face in response, Blaine was on the exact same page.


	20. Chapter 20

_September, 2015, Part II_

It was a few weeks into the semester, and Kurt was starting to get into a rhythm. Sure, his schedule wasn’t perfect yet, but at the same time he was working on being more flexible and not getting too freaked out when adjustments had to be made. It didn’t hurt that Blaine was there to help him along, because frankly any plan that involved Blaine was a good one, as their failed date night/impromptu casting session the week before had proven.

Kurt knew that his insistence on schedule and routine could be a problem for him, and that it was a contributing factor to some of the issues he and Blaine had before their break-up. So he suggested that both of them talk about it with their therapists, and then sort of report back to each other, which went remarkably well. They were even talking about having some joint sessions together, although they were going to wait until Blaine was more comfortable with Susan, his new therapist, before figuring out those details. 

Tonight was another date night, but this time, Kurt was not only ready in time, he was early. So early, in fact, that Blaine was still in the shower when Kurt arrived at Blaine’s apartment. Kitty let him in, mouthing an apology as she held her phone to her ear. Kurt couldn’t help but listen – the apartment wasn’t very big – and it soon became clear who was on the other end of the line.

“No, you _cannot_ let them do that song. I don’t care if they say they like it – it’s completely inappropriate.” 

A pause, while Kitty gave the phone her best bitch face, and then launched in again. “Don’t be lame. You’re supposed to be the responsible adult here. A teacher, not their bff.” Then she laughed. “I know glee club is ridiculous, but you have to try to impose _some_ discipline. Even a little bit would help…” She trailed off, shaking her head. 

Then the tone of Kitty’s voice changed, and Kurt’s ears perked up despite himself. “Good, I think. Really good.” She hummed. “Yes, I will. Give me a break, I told you I would. We look out for each other.” She came into the living room, shaking her head. “Fine. If you don’t believe me, ask Kurt.”

Kitty held out the phone, apparently not concerned about the fact that Kurt had probably heard every word she said. “Sam wants to talk to you.”

Kurt wasn’t sure that Sam actually did want to talk to him, but he was certainly curious as to what was going on. He took the phone, hoping that Kitty would give him a hint, but she just flounced away and headed back to her room. “Hey Sam, what’s up?”

“Kurt, hey. Um, nothing much.”

“Kitty said you wanted to talk to me?”

A pause. Kurt could hear rattling, and wondered if Sam was making dinner. Not that he could even imagine what that might involve. “Dude, I don’t know if I should,” Sam finally said.

“What do you mean?” Now Kurt was really curious.

“I don’t know. I guess I just wanted to check in on Blaine. See how things were going.”

Kurt smiled. Sam’s concern for Blaine was so genuine, it literally warmed his heart. “Things are going really well. He’s happy.”

“Even with the, um, changes?”

Did he mean the move? Or starting school? Kurt was a little confused, but this wasn’t unusual in a conversation with Sam. It was generally best to be very specific with him. “What changes, Sam?”

“You know, with his meds? I know Blaine was really worried.”

Now Kurt was really confused. Blaine hadn’t mentioned anything about changes to his medications. Not that he had to, but if Sam knew…

“Kurt? Is he really okay?”

“Yeah, Sam, he really is.” 

“That’s awesome. Hey, I have to go, will you tell Blaine I called?”

“Of course, Sam.”

They said their goodbyes, and Kurt set Kitty’s phone down on the coffee table. Soon Blaine was ready to head out, and Kurt pushed the topic out of his mind, determined to enjoy the evening and not let his concerns interfere.

But the conversation with Sam gnawed at him. Blaine really hadn’t seemed any different, lately. At least, not in any negative way. In fact, Blaine seemed to be getting better all the time – happier, sunnier, more resilient. He wasn’t exactly the same person as when they had met years ago, but neither was Kurt. It was understandable given everything Blaine had been through that his confidence would be a little less broad, his insecurities a little closer to the surface. 

Kurt wracked his mind, trying to remember if Blaine’s mood had seemed particularly off over the past few weeks. There had been a few times when he got anxious about something – not even really anxious, but sort of cautiously concerned that he might get nervous. One morning they had met for coffee before class and Blaine had spent the first ten minutes staring off into space, but when he had his tea and relaxed, he confessed that he was worried about a rehearsal that night that he wasn’t feeling prepared for. Kurt suggested that they get together in the afternoon to practice, and Blaine had agreed, his concern melting away in the face of Kurt’s logic (and kisses).

And now it turned out Blaine may have been fighting to keep his composure in the face of a change in his medication. If that was true, Kurt was definitely impressed.

Kurt kept his thoughts to himself through dinner, but by the time they were in line at the movie theater, he couldn’t hold it in any longer. He stepped up behind Blaine and wrapped his arms around his waist. “Hey. I’m proud of you, you know,” Kurt said softly into his ear.

Blaine leaned back against him, a shy smile on his face. “Oh? Why?”

“Sam told me you changed your meds. I know that must have been scary, but you’ve been doing great.”

Kurt could feel Blaine freeze. “It’s okay,” he said quickly, pulling Blaine tighter against him. “You don’t have to be afraid to talk to me about it-”

Blaine twisted in his arms, his eyes darting around at the other people in the queue. They were inching closer to the ticket counter, but Blaine stepped out of the line and pulled Kurt after him. “Do you want to talk about this, or do you want to see the movie?” Blaine asked, his voice shaking. “Because I don’t think I can do both.”

Kurt took in Blaine’s posture, his shoulders curling down, and cursed himself. “I’m sorry, I shouldn’t have mentioned this now. I’ve upset you, and I…”

“Let’s just go home,” Blaine said, swallowing hard. “We should talk.”

Kurt nodded, and held out his hand. Blaine took it, and they started walking away from the theater. Kurt kept glancing at Blaine, looking for a clue as to what he was feeling, but aside from Blaine’s hand tightly gripping his, Blaine wasn’t sending out any smoke signals. 

*****

Blaine tried to concentrate on his breathing as they walked back to his apartment, but his bowtie felt like it was choking him and he could hardly get a full breath in. Even when he did, he just succeeded in filling his lungs with humid, toxic city air. The only thing keeping him from drowning was Kurt’s hand holding his.

They finally got back to his place. As they stepped inside, Kurt turned to Blaine with an expectant look, and suddenly Blaine panicked, his heart pounding in his chest. “I, um, I’ll be right back.” Blaine stumbled off into the bathroom, closed the door behind him and sank down on the floor. Gasping for breath, he pulled off his bowtie, undid the top buttons of his shirt, and pressed his face into his knees. 

Blaine didn’t want to have this conversation with Kurt. Not now, not ever. Everything was going so well. Kurt didn’t need a constant reminder of how broken Blaine still was, of how sometimes it seemed like he was just balancing on a tightrope, waiting for a stiff breeze to knock him down. He dragged his fingers along the cold tile floor, hating himself for being so scared. 

And Sam… he couldn’t be angry with Sam for asking after him, but he really should know better than to talk about Blaine’s private business with anyone else. _And you should know better than to think you can hide from this now,_ a voice in his head told him. _Get out there and talk to Kurt. He’ll understand._ Sometimes the voice in his head sounded remarkably like Burt.

Blaine wished he was as convinced of Kurt’s understanding as the Burt-voice seemed to be, but in any case, he knew he couldn’t stay in the bathroom forever. He pushed himself up and ran some water over his face, and went out into the living room.

Kurt was sitting on the couch, but he jumped up as soon as Blaine entered the room, a concerned look on his face. “Hey. Are you okay?”

Blaine just nodded, knowing he had to say something but not sure how, given the size of the lump in his throat.

“I made some tea. It’s chamomile. Want some?” They sat down on the couch, Blaine accepting the mug Kurt passed him. The tea wasn’t very hot anymore, but it still felt soothing in his hands. They sat there in silence for a few more minutes, taking sips from their mugs. Blaine was working on saying something, he really was, he just couldn’t seem to find the words.

Apparently Kurt could. “I want you to know you can trust me,” he said, barely audible. Blaine could see the mug shaking in Kurt’s hands as he spoke, and Kurt did too, quickly setting it down on the coffee table and turning towards Blaine. “Really,” he said, stronger now, “whatever is going on in your life, no matter what it is, you can trust me.”

“I do,” Blaine said. “I really do. It’s just.... this is hard for me. Still.”

Kurt nodded. “I know. And I’m sorry I mentioned it, before. That wasn’t the place. But I was so surprised when Sam told me, I was thinking about it all night--”

“I didn’t change my meds.” Blaine finally spit it out.

Kurt stared at him blankly, surprised. “You didn’t?” 

“No.” Blaine took a deep breath, and held Kurt’s gaze. “My therapist suggested I think about it, and I talked to Sam about it -- he just happened to call right after my session with her. But I didn’t do it. So there really wasn’t anything to tell.”

“Oh.” The confusion on Kurt’s face was evident, and Blaine knew he wasn’t going to leave it there. “Why did she want you to change your meds?”

Because I’m a mess. _Cut it out,_ the voice said again. Blaine set his mug down on the table, figuring it was a good thing it wasn’t a paper cup or he would have squished it completely by now. “Because I’m having trouble sleeping.” 

Kurt nodded. “So why didn’t you let her change them?”

“I didn’t want to mess anything up.” Blaine looked away, his eyes burning. 

Kurt shuffled closer to him on the couch and placed a careful hand on Blaine’s thigh. “You didn’t want to mess up anything with us, you mean?” Kurt asked gently. Blaine trembled at the soft tone in his voice. He didn’t understand how Kurt could be what he wanted most and, at the same time, be what he was so desperately afraid of. 

Blaine barely resisted the urge to just fall into Kurt and avoid the whole conversation. Instead he pressed his knee against Kurt’s, grounding himself, and tried to explain. “School was just starting, and you and I were just figuring all this out” he waved a hand vaguely around the room, “we were together again, and everything was actually working.” He swallowed hard. “I didn’t want to risk it.”

“Risk what?” Kurt prompted.

Blaine felt like he was conducting open heart surgery, laying himself out on the table, and now the knife was coming down, ready to slice him apart. “When I switch medications, or dosages, there can be a period of adjustment. Weeks, or months. I could have mood swings, lots of down days. I’d be different.”

“Different?”

“Not the me I am now.” Blaine gulped and looked at Kurt, whose blue eyes were cutting right through him. “Not the me you like.”

“Oh, Blaine,” Kurt breathed out, surging towards him and wrapping his arms tight around his shoulders. Blaine let himself collapse against him, burying his face in Kurt’s neck and letting go. Kurt tugged at him until he was practically in Kurt’s lap, held tight and safe as he sobbed out his fear. “Shh, shh. It’s okay. Don’t worry, okay? Don’t worry. It’s okay.”

Blaine finally calmed down, but stayed where he was, his hands balled up in Kurt’s shirt, Kurt’s presence surrounding him. “How can I not worry?” he stuttered out. “My brain chemistry is a medical construct. It’s entirely subject to change.”

He felt Kurt suck in a quick breath, and then Kurt shifted, his hands moving to frame his face. He looked at Blaine intently, and when he spoke, it was with patented Kurt Hummel certainly. “My difficulty with change does not extend to you, and your health. I love you. I love the you that you are regardless of what medications you’re taking, whether you’re happy or sad, whether you’re having a bad day or a good one.” 

Kurt was saying all the right things. “I want to believe you, I do. But with this… I’m just so scared.”

“Blaine, you can’t sacrifice your health because you’re worried about me not being able to handle something. That can’t be a viable long term plan,” Kurt said, frustrated.

“It’s not sacrificing my health, really. I’m just not sleeping well, it’s not that big a deal. Normal college kid stuff.”

Kurt gave Blaine an apprising look, clearly not convinced, but then he just pulled him back against his chest and wrapped his arms around him. They breathed together for a few minutes, Kurt cupping the back of Blaine’s neck and sliding his fingers up into his hair. Blaine had gone a little overboard on the gel tonight, but Kurt never seemed to mind. He tried to relax, focusing on the smell of Kurt’s cologne and the feel of his soft cotton shirt over his warm skin.

After a few minutes, Kurt stirred, pulling back to look at Blaine. “Maybe we can find some other ways to help you sleep better,” Kurt said thoughtfully. It figured that while Blaine was spacing out, Kurt was still trying to solve the problem at hand.

“What do you mean?”

“Well, there’s got to be another way to approach this. If you’re happy with your meds as they are, except you’re having trouble sleeping, maybe we can just help you sleep better some other way.” 

Blaine couldn’t help but smile at Kurt’s flash of raised eyebrow. “Kurt, I don’t think…” 

“No, I didn’t mean _that_ way,” Kurt said, grinning. “Unless you think it would solve the problem, because it if would…”

“It wouldn’t,” Blaine said, but Kurt’s antics certainly did lighten the mood, which was probably what Kurt was trying to accomplish anyway. He sighed. “Whether we’re together at night or not, it’s not falling asleep initially that’s the problem. It’s that I wake up a little while later, and then can’t fall asleep again. It doesn’t happen every night, just sometimes.”

“That happens to me too,” Kurt said.

“It does?”

“Yeah. And there have definitely been times when I thought you were awake too.”

“Why didn’t you say anything?”

“I didn’t want to wake you up.” Kurt laughed. “We’re quite a pair, aren’t we?”

Blaine laughed too, finally relaxing. “So next time it happens, should we just both get out of bed and play cards or something?”

Kurt shrugged. “Honestly, I don’t know if that would make it better or worse. But I’m willing to try it. I’ll try anything.” Kurt took Blaine’s hand, rubbing his thumb over the skin on his wrist. “Maybe we can talk to Susan about it?” 

Blaine snorted. “That seems so obvious, doesn’t it? How come I didn’t think of that before?”

“Because you were too worried about mentioning it at all.”

Kurt was right. “I really was.” Blaine sat up, detangling himself from Kurt. “I still am, honestly. I don’t know why I’m so scared.” He held out his hands, palms down, so that Kurt could see how they were trembling. “I’m sorry I talked to Sam about it and not you.”

Kurt considered him carefully, and Blaine tried not to flinch, still feeling as exposed as he had at the beginning of the conversation. “You know what?” Kurt asked, rubbing a finger over his lips. “It’s really okay.”

“What do you mean?”

“You don’t have to tell me everything. I mean, I want you to, don’t get me wrong. But if some things are too scary to talk about with me, and it’s easier for you to talk to Sam, or Susan, that’s okay too.”

“Kurt…”

“No, really. I admit I was feeling just a tiny bit hurt, before, when I realized you had talked to Sam and not me about this. But that wasn’t fair.”

“I want to be able to tell you this stuff, I really do. But it’s different than telling Sam.”

“I know.”

“You do?” Blaine asked.

Kurt nodded. “You’re not afraid that Sam will discover something about you and change his mind,” he said softly. “That he’ll leave you.”

Blaine couldn’t speak, he just nodded, his heart feeling like it was going to pound right out of his chest.

“I’m not going to leave you,” Kurt said softly. “I _know_ you, the person you really are, and I love you. You may be different now, but I’ve changed, too.” Kurt’s eyes were shining, his face open and vulnerable. “You can see that, right?” 

“I can,” Blaine breathed out. Kurt’s patience and understanding, and the sheer strength of his love, had never been more apparent. “I really can.”

Kurt took Blaine’s hands in his, and held them up to his heart. “You are the very best thing in my life, Blaine Anderson. Believe me when I tell you that you are safe with me – that every part of you is safe with me. I love all of you. And I’m not going anywhere.”


	21. Chapter 21

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> The first part of this chapter is rated E (as in yes, they _eventually_ got to sexy times).
> 
> Many thanks to perry_avenue for her constant support and advice as I wrote this story.

_October, 2015_

 

Kurt had been determined to make sure everyone came to New York for the one year anniversary of their meeting on the corner, outside his old Bushwick loft. The loft was where he and Rachel, and then Santana, and Blaine, and Sam, had made their first home in the city. It held a lot of memories for him. Although they weren't all good memories, he had spent two years there, and it was part of his life. In any case, meeting on the corner was what they had said they would do, and Kurt was going to make sure that this time, it actually happened. He made a Facebook page, sent out email reminders, and even had an actual phone call with Tina. Somewhere along the way, however, he got a better idea.

This idea required a bit more stealth, but Kurt was nothing if not a master of careful planning. And he knew it was going to be worth it. Life was about moving on, and creating new memories, and this had the potential to be a very memorable event. Kurt just had to make sure no one leaked any information before the big day.

Kurt was up early on the day in question, already having made a quick trip out to a nearby bakery, when Blaine padded into the kitchen. The night before they had both been too busy with rehearsals to have a proper date, so they had decided to have a late night sleepover so they could start their Saturday off together. They had tried to watch Moulin Rouge but fell asleep curled up around each other on the couch before Christian even spoke to Satine, and Kurt didn’t even remember relocating to the bedroom. But he definitely remembered waking up with Blaine twined around him, his arm slung heavy over his waist and his soft breath on his neck, and it was the best possible way to begin his day. 

Blaine stepped up behind Kurt, wrapped his warm body around him, and gave him a toothpaste flavored kiss. “Ooh, you’re chilly,” Blaine said, pulling Kurt close.

“And you’re toasty, as always,” Kurt said against Blaine’s lips, happily kissing him back. The breeze had been brisk that morning, the fresh smell of fall a welcome change from the heat of the summer – but Kurt really should have brought a jacket. “Want a cider doughnut? They’re fresh.”

“Mmm, maybe later. Right now… just want you.” Blaine let the blanket he had draped around him fall to the floor, leaving him only in his black boxer briefs, and grinned mischievously at Kurt, who couldn't help smiling back. So what if he enjoyed looking at his mostly naked, sleep-mussed boyfriend? Blaine took Kurt by the hand and inclined his head towards their room. “Come back to bed. The doughnuts can wait.”

“Blaine… we’ve got things to do today,” Kurt protested halfheartedly, as he let Blaine pull him back into the bedroom anyway.

“Agreed. Delicious, sexy things.” Blaine was dropping kisses down his neck, and there was soon going to be no chance at all for Kurt to turn back. Not when Blaine was concentrating on that spot _right there._ It just felt too good.

Over the past few weeks they had definitely gotten more comfortable with each other with regard to _intimacy,_ Blaine seeming to trust himself more, even taking the initiative at times. But this was bolder than he’d been in ages, and it made Kurt’s skin tingle with anticipation.

“God, Blaine,” Kurt moaned, falling back onto the bed and taking Blaine with him, as Blaine straddled him and continued to kiss and suck along his neck. “Mmm, that feels so good.” Kurt couldn’t help pointing it out, even though Blaine had heard before exactly how much it turned him on.

Blaine moved down from Kurt’s neck to his collarbone, unbuttoning his shirt as he went, and letting his hands roam over Kurt’s chest. Kurt scooted further up the bed, and Blaine climbed obediently after him, never letting his hands leave Kurt’s body. Once Blaine had divested Kurt of his shirt, he went to work on his pants, causing Kurt to squirm with pleasure.

“Are you trying to take those off or just torture me to death?” Kurt said, not really complaining. When Blaine finally, slowly, undid his zipper, Kurt slid off his pants and tossed them on the floor – he wasn’t planning on wearing that outfit this afternoon anyway. He took his briefs off too, then tugged at Blaine’s. 

Soon they were both delightfully naked, holding each other close under the sheets, Blaine’s breath hot against Kurt’s skin as they writhed against each other, hands roaming up and down and everywhere they could touch. Kurt shifted a little and touched Blaine’s cheek, pushing his curls away from his face and catching his eye. “You’re very excited,” he said carefully, not wanting to break the mood, but feeling the need to check in. It wasn’t as if they never had morning sex, but there was something about Blaine that seemed a little different today.

Blaine just smiled and pressed a kiss to Kurt’s nose. “I am. Excited. And monumentally nervous about this afternoon.” Blaine and Kitty had both gotten into NYU’s top a capella group, and today they were performing in Washington Square Park. Blaine had mentioned on more than one occasion that it would be his first public performance in over a year, his anxiety growing as the day approached. Kurt knew how important it was to him that today go well.

“You’re going to do fine,” Kurt said softly, gazing into Blaine’s wide honey eyes. “I’ve heard you guys rehearse. You are all amazing. Especially that guy who solos _Crazy Love._ ” Which was Blaine, of course. Kurt kissed him gently. “You’ve got this.”

“I know.” Blaine ducked his head, nuzzling against Kurt’s chest, and then looked up at him, his long lashes fluttering. “I just _need you_ for a little while.”

“Oh,” Kurt said, a warm feeling spreading through him. “Okay. I’m here.”

Blaine gazed at him, his face open, and then a smile spread across his face. “If it won’t be too much of a bother,” Blaine said teasingly, letting his hand slip between them where Kurt was pressed hard against him.

“No, it’ll be fine,” Kurt breathed out. Blaine stroked Kurt for a few minutes, and Kurt gave himself over to it, letting the pleasure build. Then Blaine crawled down and sank his mouth over the head of Kurt’s cock, and Kurt could stay quiet no longer. “Oh shit Blaine,” Kurt panted out, letting a hand slide down to wrap in Blaine’s curls. He let himself drift and focused on the feeling of Blaine’s warm, wet mouth around him, licking and sucking until Kurt thought he might burst.

All too soon Blaine popped off, sliding back up the bed to Kurt, his lips full and red. Kurt whined a little, thrusting against Blaine, who just wrapped himself tight around Kurt and rolled them until Kurt was on top. 

Blaine licked up Kurt’s neck and pulled gently on his earlobe with his teeth, his hand lacing into Kurt’s hair. “I want you inside me,” Blaine whispered, pulling Kurt to him for a hard kiss, then laying back against the bed, his hands on Kurt’s shoulders pulling him close as he laid back. “Please.”

Kurt hadn’t realized he could be any more turned on, but suddenly, he was. Blaine was looking up at him steadily, his dark eyes blown with desire. “Please,” Blaine said again, his hips restlessly pressing against Kurt.

As if Kurt would turn him down. “Of course, baby.” They hadn’t done this yet, not since getting back together. Kurt had been waiting for Blaine to make the first move, knowing how vulnerable opening himself up to Kurt like this made him feel. He hadn’t wanted to push. But he wasn’t going to question him, either. He trusted Blaine to know when he was ready. 

Kurt kissed Blaine intently, sucking on his lips and licking into his mouth. He let his body weight press down on him, and he felt Blaine relax, his hands coming up to tangle in Kurt’s hair, legs falling to the sides so that Kurt could slot himself between them. “Love you so much, Blaine. Gonna take care of you.”

“Mmm, love you too,” Blaine hummed. “Love your body, your skin.” He ran his hands down to Kurt’s ass, squeezing and stroking. “You make me feel so good.”

Kurt slid down a little, kissing down Blaine’s chest to find his nipples, sucking on one while he teased the other with his fingers, and then switching his mouth to the other, keeping at it until Blaine was gasping with pleasure. “You like this, don’t you,” Kurt murmured. He reached down to tug on Blaine’s cock, which was hard and leaking, and Blaine gasped again, throwing his head back. “You like this, too.”

“Yes, Kurt, yes.” Blaine was breathing hard. “So much, Kurt, ah, fuck.” 

Realizing Blaine was close, Kurt eased off, scrambling to find the lube he knew was somewhere up by the pillows. Kurt gave a silent thanks that they had already had the condom conversation – Kitty of all people had brought it up one day, boldly asking Blaine and Kurt if they had a few she could use – prompting them both to admit that not only did they not have any, they had no desire to use them again. They were both clean, and hadn’t been with anyone else, so there was no need.

Mission accomplished, Kurt dribbled some lube on his fingers and returned his attention to Blaine, letting a fingertip press and circle around his hole. Blaine’s face was flushed red, an arm flopped over his eyes. Kurt stretched out next to him, his chest against Blaine’s side, wanting as much contact as possible. 

Blaine’s breath was coming faster now, and he shifted towards Kurt, his hands grabbing Kurt’s shoulders, his back, anywhere he could reach. “Please Kurt, I need… please,” Blaine panted out. Kurt obliged, sliding a finger in, and Blaine let out a low moan. “So good. Fuck.” 

Kurt leaned over and kissed him, Blaine’s mouth open as Kurt licked into it and teased his bottom lip with his teeth. Kurt pressed himself, hard and aching, against Blaine’s hip. Blaine was writhing harder now, pushing against Kurt’s hand, so he squeezed out some more lube and pressed two fingers in, adding a third after a few minutes. Blaine was tight, but opening up, and clearly enjoying himself. “So good for me, Blaine. So hot,” Kurt said, leaning down to kiss Blaine again, open mouthed and breathy. They rocked together for a few minutes, Blaine fucking himself on Kurt’s fingers, making the most wonderful noises, until Kurt feared he might come just from listening to him. “Ready for more, babe?”

“Yeah,” Blaine exhaled. Kurt carefully slid his fingers out, then climbed between Blaine’s legs and arranged a pillow underneath Blaine’s ass. Blaine raised up to watch Kurt, looking deliciously wrecked already. Kurt scooted closer, running his hands up and down Blaine’s trembling thighs, pressing a kiss to his knee and smiling as he got himself into position. Blaine lay back but kept watching him, sucking in a quick breath as Kurt pressed against his hole.

Kurt took his time, loving the look on Blaine’s face as he pushed slowly in, Blaine’s eyes fluttering closed. When Kurt settled himself he leaned down to curl around Blaine, nosing at his cheek. Blaine took a few deep breaths, then opened his eyes and smiled at Kurt. “Hi,” he said softly.

“Hi,” Kurt replied. 

Blaine squirmed a little under Kurt, and Kurt started to move, gently at first, and then faster. Blaine was flushed and sweating, one hand tangled in the sheets while the other grasped Kurt’s shoulder. Kurt sat up on his heels to get a better angle, pulling Blaine on to his lap as he thrust harder and harder, a moan escaping from Blaine’s throat each time Kurt slammed into him. Kurt kept going until he was close, and then wrapped his hand around Blaine’s cock.

“Oh god, Kurt,” Blaine practically screamed, pushing his hips to meet Kurt’s thrusts. It was uncoordinated and wild, and within moments they were both coming, Kurt collapsing next to Blaine in a sticky daze.

“Holy crap,” Blaine breathed out, still gasping for breath. He shifted towards Kurt with a wince, and reached out to grab Kurt’s ass and pull him back up against him, wrapping a leg around Kurt’s. “Don’t want to let you go,” Blaine panted. “Keep you here forever.”

“S’okay with me,” Kurt replied, letting Blaine tug him closer. “As long as I don’t have to move.” He lay his head on Blaine’s heaving chest, running a hand down his damp skin, giving a gentle caress to his softening cock. 

They dozed contentedly for a little while, Blaine running his fingers over Kurt’s back, finally resting his hand over Kurt’s hip. “I love you so much,” Blaine said, almost matter of factly. “Sometimes I can’t believe how lucky I am.”

Kurt shifted, pressing a slow kiss to Blaine’s lips. “We’re both lucky.” He sat up a little, taking Blaine’s hand and tugging on it until Blaine met his eyes. “But it’s not just luck.”

Blaine considered him, and nodded. “No, it’s not. We’re working at it.”

“Best job I ever had,” Kurt said seriously, but then jumped as Blaine shoved him. “Hey, what’s that for?”

“I am not a job,” Blaine said teasingly, poking Kurt in the ribs.

“Oh no? Don’t people say you should find a job you love?”

“Cheeseball,” Blaine said, grinning. He looked around at the bed, sheets strewn around and Kurt’s shirt hanging off the side. “I suppose you’re going to tell me we have to get up and shower now, aren’t you?”

Kurt laughed. “The choice is yours, broccoli head.”

“Oh, low blow, Kurt, low blow.” Blaine slid off the bed, cringing a little as he stood up. He glanced back at Kurt. “Um, do you still have that extra-strength cover up?”

Kurt came up to Blaine and tilted his head, running a hand through Blaine’s tangled curls as he examined his face. “What for? Your skin looks good.”

“Maybe. But you’ve got a hell of a hickey.”

*****

Kurt quickly found Rachel in the crowd at the park, looking elegant, if a bit out of place, with a wide brimmed hat and sunglasses. “You do realize Blaine knows you’re going to be here,” Kurt said, startling her as he came up behind her.

“Kurt! Hi!” Rachel grabbed him into a tight hug, and then pulled out her phone. “I did everything you asked. Don’t look, but Sam and Ryder are back behind that tree-“

Of course Kurt looked, and Sam responded endearingly, if not exactly subtly, his whole body moving as he enthusiastically waved at Kurt and Rachel.

“Tina and Quinn are over by that lamppost, and Brittany and Santana are back by that stone bench thingy.” Kurt turned, not getting a very good look at Brittany or Santana, who were currently engaged in what looked to be a very satisfying make-out session.

“What about Artie?”

“You rang?” Artie wheeled up in front of them. “Mercedes just texted me, she should be here any minute.”

“Does she know not to-”

“Yeah, she knows the drill, don’t worry, man,” Artie rolled his eyes at Kurt. “Sheesh, you’d think we were a bunch of amateurs.”

Rachel shushed them and they turned to see the NYU a capella group arranging themselves in front of the marble arch, facing the gathered audience. The fourteen members looked appealing, the men wearing white shirts and khakis, the women with dark purple sundresses. One of the women glanced over at Kurt, making a little “okay” sign with her hand and then turning back to the group.

“Who’s that?” Rachel asked, her antenna always alert for possible competition.

“Miranda. She’s the group’s president, and she helped me coordinate everything.”

“She knows? But it’s a secret!” Rachel protested.

Kurt laughed. “I think she can keep a secret, Rach. Besides, it will work out better this way. You’ll see.”

Soon the group arranged themselves in a semi-circle, the pitch was blown, and everyone began bopping along to their first number, a high energy medley of Billy Joel songs which featured Kitty as well as a short redheaded girl and a boy with a resonant bass voice. When they finished, Kitty slid back into her place next to Blaine. She blushed furiously as Blaine gave her shoulders a squeeze and whispered something in her ear, while studiously ignoring Artie’s catcalls.

When the first number was over Miranda stepped forward to introduce them and say a few words about NYU's performing groups. Kurt caught Blaine’s eye and gave him a little wave. Blaine immediately grinned back, bouncing on his toes with excitement. Kurt couldn’t help but feel relieved – all of Blaine’s worries seemed to have disappeared as soon as he started singing, which frankly wasn’t much of a surprise. Music had always been Blaine’s refuge, a safe and joyful space. And being in front of an audience again was clearly making him happy.

Their next number was Viva La Vida by Coldplay, soloed by a tall boy with a breathtaking voice, backed by three girls who clearly loved singing together. They reminded Kurt of Quinn, Brittany and Santana in their unholy trinity days.

Kitty stepped up to introduce the next song, and Kurt felt Rachel suck in her breath beside him as it was announced. “Crazy Love, soloed and arranged by Blaine Anderson.”

“He’s going to knock it out of the park, isn’t he,” Artie commented.

He did. Kurt wanted to swoon, and shout, and scream Blaine’s name, but he didn’t. Plenty of time for that later.

The next few numbers went by in a blur, and just before their last one, Kurt sent a quick text. By the time the pitch was blown, all their friends had gathered around where Blaine could see them, and Kurt saw Blaine’s eyebrows fly up as he realized just how many out of town guests had seen his performance. It was perfect, too – their final number was “Valerie,” and soon Santana and Brittany were dancing along, hair flying and bodies twisting, while Sam and Ryder were doing something silly in the background that seemed to involve robots, although that didn't make any sense.

When they were done Miranda stepped forward again to thank the crowd, and urged them to hang around for a few more minutes, as another group was about to perform. Kurt saw Kitty grab Blaine’s arm as he started to move away, whispering something in his ear, and pointing over towards Kurt. Blaine looked up, perplexed, but remained where he was as the rest of the group members stepped back.

Kurt could feel his heart pounding hard inside his chest as Mercedes stepped forward out of the crowd and began singing, her voice rich and strong.

_There’s a boy I know. He’s the one I dream of._  
_Looks into my eyes. Takes me to the clouds above, mm mm._

Santana stepped up and joined in, backing up Mercedes as she went on, both of them facing Blaine, their eyes sparkling.

_Oh I lose control, can’t seem to get enough, uh huh._

Kurt sucked in a deep breath and then joined them as Mercedes began the next line.

_When I wake from dreaming, tell me is it really love._

Rachel came up next to him, squeezing his hand and taking over the lead.

 _How will I know?_ she sang.

 _Can’t trust my feelings,_ they responded.

_How will I know?_

_Love can be deceiving._

_How will I know?_

They made it to the chorus, and Kurt finally stole a look up at Blaine, who was staring at them, mesmerized. Kurt caught his eye and tilted his head at him, and he bit his lip, smiling softly at Kurt.

_How will I know if he really loves me_  
_I say a prayer with every heart beat_  
_I fall in love whenever we meet_  
_I'm asking you what you know about these things_  
_How will I know if he's thinking of me_  
_I try to phone but I'm too shy (can't speak)_  
_Falling in love is so bitter sweet_  
_This love is strong why do I feel weak._

 

Mercedes took the next verse, and Kurt concentrated on the music, afraid if he looked at Blaine any longer he’d lose his place. But when they got to the bridge – _If he loves me, if he loves me not_ \-- he had to look up, and if seeing Blaine’s grin and growing blush threw him off just a little, well, his friends would forgive him.

They finished the song to cheers and applause, Kurt stepping back with a nod and a whispered “thank you” to the rest of his quartet. On cue, the rest of the New Directions alums joined them, and Artie started them off.

_Clap your hands y’all, it’s alright. Clap your hands y’all, it’s alright._

Mercedes began the verse, as Kurt went to Blaine and took his hand, pulling him into the group. 

_If tomorrow is judgment day_  
_And I'm standing on the front line_  
_And the Lord asks me what I did with my life_  
_I will say I spent it with you._

Sam bounced forward and he and Tina led the next one, both of them dancing around Blaine and blowing kisses at him. Ryder began to beatbox, setting a steady back beat as he swayed nearby. Blaine beamed at Kurt, who stood behind him with his hands on Blaine’s shoulders, in awe of their friends’ voices and the beauty they were creating together.

_If I wake up in World War III_  
_I see destruction and poverty_  
_And I feel like I want to go home_  
_It's okay if you're coming with me._

Sam and Tina finished up with their arms around each other. Then everyone joined in, Rachel cuddling up to Blaine, a wide smile on her face. Blaine’s eyes lit up and then they were all singing, their love for Blaine and their love for each other coming through with every note.

_'Cause your love is my love_  
_And my love is your love_  
_It would take an eternity to break us_  
_And the chains of Amistad couldn't hold us._

Kurt took Blaine’s hand, meeting his eyes and feeling like his heart was going to overflow. He thought back to that day in the McKinley auditorium when they had all sang this song, when he and Blaine were just beginning to understand that loving each other was going to take more work than they had anticipated, but they resolved to do it anyway.

_'Cause your love is my love_  
_And my love is your love_  
_It would take an eternity to break us_  
_And the chains of Amistad couldn't hold us._

Brittany and Santana were dancing again, pointing at each other and everyone else, and Sam made a little heart sign with his fingers before he pulled Blaine into a one-armed hug.

By the time the song was over they were all teary-eyed, Mercedes passing out tissues as the girls dabbed at their mascara. The members of Blaine’s a capella group gathered around, chatting with the New Directions and complimenting them on their arrangements. “Oh, it’s just something we threw together in high school,” Kurt heard Artie say, Kitty smiling fondly at him in response.

“Nice job by the way, Blaine Warbler,” Kurt whispered to Blaine, coming up behind him and wrapping his arms around his waist. 

Blaine turned to face him, his grin splitting his face. “You are the most awesome person in the world, you know that?”

Kurt blushed. “I think we’re all pretty awesome,” he said, waving his arm to take in their group of friends, who had apparently decided to reprise “Valerie” with the NYU kids. It wasn’t quite as smooth this time, but Tina was dancing away with the tall boy who had sang “Viva La Vida,” and Sam was chatting up the redheaded girl, and they all looked pretty happy.

“Yeah, we are, aren’t we?” 

Kurt paused, looking into Blaine’s wide eyes and sighing. “I do love you like crazy, you know.”

“I know.” Blaine took Kurt in his arms and held him tight. “He gives me love, love, love, love, crazy love,” he sang softly.

“I noticed you changed the pronouns in the performance, too,” Kurt said, his face pressed into Blaine’s hair.

“Of course,” Blaine said. “I was singing it to you. I’m always singing to you.”

“I know. Me too.”

They were interrupted by Sam’s wolf whistle, and turned to listen to him as he explained to everyone how to get to Blaine and Kitty’s apartment. Not that they weren’t all capable of figuring it out themselves, but Kurt gave Sam kudos for trying to make some order of out the chaos that was the New Directions. Getting them all to agree on what to sing and who was going to do what today had been worse than herding cats, although Kurt had to admit it had succeeded far beyond his expectations.

“They’re all coming back to my place?” Blaine said. “Does Kitty know this?”

Kurt laughed. “It was her idea. My apartment is just too small.”

“Huh. Who else was in on it?”

“Oh, all of the New Directions, of course, Miranda, your mom-”

“My mom?”

“Yeah, she really wanted to come, but she didn’t want to interfere with the New Directions lovefest.”

“Oh, that’s too bad,” Blaine said, looking a little disappointed.

Kurt could barely restrain himself from laughing as he saw Pam approaching them, and he nodded for her to come over. The look on Blaine’s face was worth it, though, as she surprised him with a tight hug, her long hair falling over his face as she held him tight and whispered congratulations in his ear.

Kurt stepped away to give Blaine a chance to talk with his mom, sliding his phone out of his pocket and snapping a few pictures of the two of them together. Blaine didn’t have enough pictures up in his apartment yet, but Kurt thought today would be a good opportunity to get some new ones. Especially if Mercedes had done her part during Blaine’s performance.

Blaine came bouncing over, waving goodbye to his mother. “She’s staying with my aunt tonight, but she’ll be here until Tuesday. Can we take her out for lunch tomorrow?”

“Of course,” Kurt said, smiling. 

*****

A few days later, Kurt and Blaine were ostensibly doing homework together. Blaine was sitting cross legged on Kurt’s couch, while Kurt was stretched out on his stomach on the floor, twirling his highlighter in his hand. Kurt couldn’t focus on his reading, though, and from the giggles coming from Blaine’s direction, he wasn’t actually studying either.

“Text from Sam?” Kurt asked.

Blaine looked up, smiling. “No, this is from Tina.” He held his phone towards Kurt so he could see. “Isn’t this the cutest kitten ever?” 

“I don’t know what’s more annoying – that she keeps sending you cat videos, or that she still calls you ‘Blainey Days.’” Kurt was still somewhat perplexed by Blaine’s friendship with Tina. But as long as there were no more inappropriate incidents, if she made Blaine happy, who was he to judge?

Blaine grinned. “Come on, give her a break,” he said, taking the phone back. “Who doesn’t love cat videos?”

“It is a cute kitten,” Kurt admitted. He sat up, picking his own phone up from the coffee table and checking his texts. “Hey, I meant to ask you – remember Molly, from NYADA?”

Blaine looked up at Kurt. “Short brown hair, super-sweet? I think so.”

“She worked with an elementary school last year for her third year project, and the school is having its annual arts fair this weekend. Will you come with me to help out on Saturday? We’d play some theater games with the kids, maybe sing some songs – it’s right up your alley.”

Blaine tilted his head, confused. “Sounds like fun. But…”

“But what?” Kurt moved to sit next to Blaine on the couch, trying to catch his eye. Blaine’s expression had shifted from kitten-inspired amusement to worried and Kurt had no idea why. 

“I thought Saturday was the meeting on the corner day,” Blaine said hesitantly, his gaze firmly affixed on his lap.

 _Oh._ “Actually, we’re not doing that. When I got everyone to come see your show, I meant for that to be instead of the corner thing.” Kurt shuffled closer to Blaine on the couch, but still couldn’t catch his eye. Of course Blaine hadn’t gotten all the emails explaining what was going on – that would have completely ruined the surprise. He supposed he should have mentioned this aspect of the plan. “I thought singing together would be more fun than meeting on that dreary corner,” Kurt said softly, hoping he hadn’t made a mistake. “I hope that was okay.”

Blaine looked at Kurt, a smile spreading slowly across his face. “My god, yes,” he said softly, then took Kurt’s face in his hands and pressed a lingering kiss to his lips. “A million times more fun. You’re brilliant, you know that?”

Kurt rolled his eyes, relieved. “I know.”

Blaine ducked his head, then looked back up a Kurt, taking in a deep breath. “I was actually sort of dreading the meeting on the corner.”

“You were?”

Blaine nodded. “It was so hard for me to go last year. I was in such an awful place…” A shiver ran through him as he spoke. “I was so scared to see you. I could barely talk to you. I could barely talk to anyone. Sitting there… I couldn’t even breathe. Just thinking about it makes me feel, I don’t know, like going backwards. Into the dark.”

“Blaine,” Kurt breathed out. “Why didn’t you say anything?”

Blaine shrugged. “I don’t know. I figured maybe I should just get over it, face my fears, you know.”

Kurt gave him a look, and Blaine’s eyes widened. “What?”

“Tell me next time, okay?”

“I was going to, I swear.” Blaine looked abashed. “You know, probably the night before, when I started to freak out about it.” He grinned wryly, but then his expression changed to one of pure happiness. “And it doesn’t matter. You fixed it.” 

“Well, our meetings on the corner never did go as planned, did they?” Kurt asked, taking Blaine’s hand in his and using it to pull him closer. Blaine easily complied, wrapping himself around Kurt and tucking his head against his shoulder.

“Nope. But we found each other again anyway,” Blaine said.

“We did.” Kurt sighed contentedly, resting his head in Blaine’s curls.

“So no more meetings on the corner?” Blaine asked softly.

“No more meetings on the corner,” Kurt replied. “We’re making new memories. I liked having people over your place better, anyway.” 

“Mmm, me too. It’s our home.” Blaine shifted and looked at Kurt, his face open and earnest. “My place, or yours, both of them, they’re home to me…”

“Home is wherever I’m with you?” Kurt asked, singing it quietly. 

“Exactly.” Blaine smiled and snuggled back down against Kurt. “We’re really doing okay, aren’t we?” 

“Yeah, we really are.” Kurt ran his hands along Blaine’s shoulders, loving how perfectly they fit together, safe and content in each other’s arms. “More than okay, I’d say.”

He could feel Blaine smile against his neck. “Fabulous, even.” Blaine sat up and pressed a kiss to Kurt’s lips, his eyes sparkling. “I love you, you know.”

“I know. I love you, too.” Kurt tilted his head back, accepting Blaine’s attention with a contented hum, then shifting to kiss him back. It was in moments like these, the two of them so at ease and happy together, that Kurt couldn’t believe how far they had come over the past year. It had been a ridiculously difficult journey, but now there was more than a light at the end of the tunnel. Instead there was a brilliant sun shining down on them, and it warmed him like never before. With Blaine, he could always feel the sunshine. And Kurt felt certain that if they kept on like this, with all they had learned about themselves and each other, neither of them was ever going to have to live alone in the shadows again.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> The songs that aren't identified in the text above are _How Will I Know_ and _My Love is Your Love_ by Whitney Houston.
> 
> *****  
> Well, this is it - the year in the life of Kurt and Blaine that could have been, had things gone a little differently. I sincerely hoped you enjoyed going on this journey with me. I can't tell you how much I appreciate each and every one of your comments and your support. Glee is over, but the Klaine happiness goes on.


End file.
